Interlinked | Leah Williamson

A few days later, things had mostly returned to normal - or at least, a version of normal that looked almost identical from the outside. Maddie and Leah were talking again, sending each other reels, teasing, bickering over playlists, exchanging inside jokes across group chats like nothing had happened.

But it wasn't quite the same.

Not in a way anyone else would notice. Not even Amanda, who had always prided herself on knowing her daughter's moods better than anyone. But between them - in the gaps, the pauses, the soft edges of conversation - there was something... off. A quiet sort of weight that hadn't been there before.

The elephant in the room wasn't even subtle. It was wearing a neon sign and waving, practically screaming, What now?

Because no matter how much they laughed, no matter how many times Leah made Maddie nearly choke with a sarcastic comment, or how Maddie still knew exactly how to press Leah's buttons for a reaction - the question hung there, unanswered.

What did the kiss mean?

Where did they go from here?

They hadn't talked about it. Not really. Not properly. That night in Leah's bedroom, wrapped around each other, it had felt like enough just to be close again. Like neither of them had the emotional energy to unpack it all right there. But now - now that a few days had passed, now that the dust had settled - it was hard to ignore.

They were skimming the surface of everything. No late-night voice notes about nothing. No comfortable silence on FaceTime as they both sat doing their own thing. The things that made them them had come back - but only on the surface.

Underneath, both of them were thinking too much.

Leah had caught Maddie looking at her six times in the past two days - that soft, thoughtful kind of look - and every time Leah had opened her mouth to ask something, Maddie would crack a joke or look away or change the subject. And Leah? Leah let her. Because she was scared too.

The kiss had happened. They'd kissed. Twice, technically.

But what came next?

Neither of them had dared to say the word relationship out loud. Not even jokingly. And every second they didn't, it sat heavier between them.

Something had shifted - and neither of them could pretend they didn't feel it.

Leah was sat cross-legged on the rug in the Vellati living room, frowning at the ancient printer that Alessandro had somehow managed to completely confuse. He stood behind her with his arms crossed, glasses perched on the end of his nose as if that might help him understand what was going wrong.

"I swear I pressed that button," he muttered.

Leah grinned, not looking up. "You pressed every button, Al. That's why it's confused."

He gave a dramatic sigh and sank into the armchair behind her. "Luca never made it seem this complicated."

"That's because Luca's a nerd," Leah teased, pulling up the settings on the tiny screen. "You need a degree to understand half the things he sets up. I'm surprised you haven't accidentally printed your tax return on the toaster."

Alessandro let out a laugh - that big, warm one that made Leah smile without even trying. It was easy being here, in this house. The Vellatis had always made her feel welcome, and she and Alessandro had developed a quiet, easy banter over the many years they'd known each other.

"I appreciate you coming over," he said after a moment, tone softer now.

Leah waved it off. "Don't be silly. You bribed me with biscuits."