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Injuries were hard at the best of times, but the timing of this one had Hannah sometimes dreading the day ahead when she woke up. Not only was she dealing with the injury, she had missed out on the latest round of friendlies, she was being needlessly dragged into other people’s lives through the media, and she was alone.
That wasn’t completely accurate, but it certainly felt that way.
With her checkup appointments and rehab, she rarely crossed paths with the rest of the team. She came in later, had the last slot for lunch, and was usually done before everyone else. The temporary schedule had been almost as difficult an adjustment as the adjustment to the actual injury was, but she hadn’t been prepared to feel this isolated.
She missed the team, she really missed Mayra, and she especially missed Sjoeke.
She missed her more than anyone else, despite her being right there.
It made something in the pit of her stomach tug too sharply whenever it crossed her mind. Sjoeke had barely been in Hannah’s orbit, not even telling her she had broken up with her boyfriend. Hannah had only found out when she was walking through one of the kitchens to the physio area and caught a conversation between her and Erin, talking about moving.
“You’re moving?” Hannah had asked at the time, surprised to hear it. Sjoeke commuted by Tube and bike, but she had never seemed to mind it.
“I do not need the room any longer,” Sjoeke had said curtly, turning away to wipe down the counter. Erin had filled in the blank, mouthing they broke up to her, brow furrowed as she did so. Clearly, she was as surprised as Hannah that she hadn’t known.
Knowing she was likely one of the last to hear, Hannah had only nodded and hurried on, unable to grapple with that without privacy. Sjoeke hadn’t told her when she was with her that morning, the two of them doing their duties for the content team earlier in the gym, laughing and joking like nothing was new.
It had only gotten worse; between the holiday craziness and ramping up the rehab, even during the break, they still hadn’t really talked. It was New Year’s Eve, and with the weight of the past weeks still present in her head, Hannah hadn’t been feeling up to anything celebratory. She had opted for bed with a cup of tea instead, scrolling through her phone and catching up on messages. On instinct, her thumb tapped Sjoeke’s name.
Frohe Weihnachten was the last message, and Hannah tossed her phone to the side. The datestamp was burnt into her retinas; she couldn’t stop the tightness inside forming again.
She had never felt like this before, the physical reaction to the thought of Sjoeke’s absence completely foreign. She knew, rationally, that people came and went, that not everyone stayed in someone else’s life forever. But the larger part of her, the one that hurt every time she was reminded that Sjoeke was drifting away, came too easily to a conclusion that overrode everything else.
She needed Sjoeke in her life. Through no deliberate effort, she had become, in some aspects, Hannah’s partner. Now, she wanted that in every way she could think of. It didn’t matter what her brain conjured up – Sjoeke was supposed to be beside her in every scenario.
It was the only thing that made sense, but it still left Hannah reeling.
She knew Portugal was around the corner, though, and that was as good a time as any to get them back on the right track.
It hadn’t gotten any better. Sjoeke was still avoiding her, finding new ways to get out of talking to her. When it had been time to board the plane to Portugal, they took their customary seats beside each other, but the other woman had put on her headphones and slept almost the entire time. The sleep didn’t seem like it did anything for Sjoeke, who looked as drawn as she had when she had boarded.
She had kept her distance since, and Hannah didn’t know how to approach her. They’d been hundreds of miles apart before, but they’d never been further apart until now.
Enough was enough.
Sjoeke didn’t come down to the common area to hang out with the team one night after dinner, and though Hannah was sure she had given someone a plausible reason, she knew it wouldn’t be the truth. Unlocking her phone, she texted Sjoeke, steadfastly ignoring the datestamp that now read 2025.
I’m coming up in a bit she typed out, hitting send before she could change her mind. She waited a few minutes before pretending to get a phone call, walking out of the room casually before taking a hard left and striding towards the elevators.
Sjoeke was four floors up, and even though the elevator ride was short, it was plenty of time for the butterflies to start fluttering wildly inside. What if something was seriously wrong and Sjoeke didn’t know how to tell her? Was it her family? What if there was more to the Bayern rumours than Hannah knew?
The last question made Hannah wince, her stomach twisted around itself now. She didn’t know what was going on, but she was going to find out.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, Hannah rushed out, making a beeline for Sjoeke’s room. Before she could lose the momentum that got her here, she knocked twice.
The door opened a moment later, and Sjoeke appeared, looking like a shoddy facsimile of the woman that had been in Hannah’s thoughts constantly. “When were you going to tell me?” Hannah asked. The words tumbled out before she could stop them, sounding strangled to her ears.
Sjoeke didn’t look at her, just opened the door wider so Hannah could step in. Hannah walked straight past Sjoeke and sat down in the swivel chair, waiting for her to follow. She had settled at the edge of the bed, just out of arm’s reach, and it was another reminder of how far apart they were now. “Tell you what?” she asked.
Hannah genuinely didn’t know if she was playing dumb. “Anything!”
Sjoeke still didn’t look at her. “You know everything that’s going on,” she said, voice devoid of any intonation.
Hannah couldn’t believe it. With a rush of anger on the verge of bursting forth, heavy and hot in her ribcage, she started to rattle off her list. “We only talked about your breakup when I overheard you talking to Erin about moving. We barely talked all break.” The next one on the list stung, but she soldiered on. “Bayern? I don’t expect a daily digest on your life, Sio, but really, what the hell?”
Sjoeke settled for acknowledging the last point. “You know it is to give people things to talk about.”
Hannah could’ve screamed. “It’s not just about Bayern. Plus, you haven’t even tried to deny it.”
The silence stretched on for a fraction too long, and Hannah realized it was the first time she’d ever felt a quiet moment was dangerous.
“What is the phrase… a fresh start? It could–”
“Fuck that.” Hannah cut her off.
She couldn’t hear this anymore. The fact Sjoeke wasn’t even trying to refute it had the weight on her chest threatening to crush her completely. She had come in here ready to fight, to drag her from wherever she was back to her, but she hadn’t accounted for the lack of any sort of fire.
Unbidden, tears sprung to her eyes, the moment of resignation to the situation within sight. “I don’t want you to go,” Hannah said instead. “I want you to stay.”
That got Sjoeke’s attention. “You do not know even if you are staying!”
Hannah brushed the wetness away as fast as it had appeared. She knew it had been a tough autumn on Sjoeke, but she obviously hadn’t gathered how tough. What else was she missing about her best friend? “I get it though,” she replied. “I know why–”
“You do not know why,” Sjoeke interrupted. She immediately swore, punctuating her statement, and Hannah knew that she had indeed been missing something.
“I don’t?” Hannah turned to look at Sjoeke, the tension radiating from her palpable. She watched as the redhead fidgeted with her t-shirt, the firm line of her jaw softening after a moment.
“No,” was all Sjoeke said.
The lack of information now had dread creeping down Hannah’s spine. “Sio, what’s really going on?” Hannah asked, willing herself to maintain eye contact. “Can I do anything to help?”
The silence once again stretched on for too long, and Hannah couldn’t keep the tears at bay any longer. She’d had no idea just what was going on with Sjoeke, and the realization that she felt like she couldn’t come to Hannah had her feeling as shellshocked as she had on New Year’s Eve when she realized just how much she needed her.
“Hannah?” Sjoeke asked, now clearly concerned.
Stifling a sob, Hannah whirled around in the chair, yanking a tissue from the box there to try and stem the tides. “Sio, please. If I did anything…” She didn’t even know what she was pleading for, but she was sure now she had to have enough drive for the both of them, to get through this. Sniffling, she focused on trying to tell Sjoeke everything she was feeling without pinning any of it on her. “Sio. You mean everything to me. I don’t know what’s going on, but I do know I want to fix it. To make whatever is going on better, if I can.”
For a split second, Hannah could’ve sworn all the weight on Sjoeke’s shoulders had lifted. Surely she knew that Hannah would do anything for her? But her expression closed as soon as it had opened. “You cannot. Leave it, please.”
She couldn’t have pushed her away further if she had physically done so. “I can’t,” Hannah protested, her voice rising an octave on its own. “Sio, I–”
Cool fingers wrapped around her wrist, and before she knew it, Hannah was standing in front of Sjoeke, who cupped her face with her free hand and leant in.
Still stunned, Hannah barely registered the feel of Sjoeke’s lips on hers. She hadn’t realized how it could feel, being kissed by her, but she knew that as long as she could have this, everything up to this point had been worth it.
Exhaling as Sjoeke pulled away, Hannah felt immediately bereft when the other woman let her go. Standing there, stock still, she barely registered Sjoeke’s words. “That is why.” It was probably the first time all night she had been truly honest. “Now you know everything.”
The notion that Sjoeke wanted her the way she wanted Sjoeke had never crossed her mind. Unable to move, Hannah could only look at her.
Before Hannah could say anything, she caught the redhead’s expression starting to crumple before she turned. “Let yourself out,” Sjoeke mumbled, likely going to hide in the bathroom.
Snapping to attention, Hannah’s hand shot out and grabbed Sjoeke’s wrist, pulling her back to her. She didn’t have anything to say, but it didn’t matter. What she wanted to tell her transcended words, anyways. Hannah leaned in and kissed her, cupping her face in both hands.
Now present, Hannah could relish every detail. How soft Sjoeke’s lips were, the tiniest of sighs she made, the feeling of her relaxing under her hands: it was straight out of a fairy tale.
Sjoeke pulled away before Hannah was ready to let her go, and Hannah was left to watch the other woman back up a couple steps to sit on the bed again. “This… you…” Despite English not being Sjoeke’s first language, she usually had something ready to say. At the moment, however, her powers of speech had evaporated.
Hannah sat next to Sjoeke, ensuring she left a respectable amount of room. “I didn’t know I felt this way until recently,” she said softly, answering the unasked question. “I only understood when I thought about how I felt when you were avoiding me. And then…”
Sjoeke grimaced. “I am sorry,” she replied, recovered now. “I know I hurt you.”
“You did,” Hannah acknowledged, “and you were trying to protect yourself, weren’t you?”
Nodding, Sjoeke’s expression turned from unease to something more melancholy. “The day you came back to training, it felt like everyone could see what I was thinking. What I was feeling. I only realized it that day, and–”
“You panicked?”
“Yes,” Sjoeke agreed. “I panicked.”
Hannah nodded, letting the last few weeks turn over in her head. Despite the sting of the memory, she was relieved, elated, even hopeful. She didn’t know what was next, but the fact that she and Sjoeke were here, together and talking, that was enough to make her brave.
Their fingers interlaced automatically when Hannah reached out for her hand, soothing something inside the blonde she didn’t know was there. With her free hand, Hannah reached up and tilted Sjoeke’s face to hers.
She looked calmer now, a small smile on her lips.
“Can I kiss you again?” Hannah asked quietly.
Sjoeke nodded and leaned in, pressing her lips to Hannah’s without another word. She let go of Hannah’s hand to tug her closer by the front of her zip up, their kiss deepening.
Following the pull, Hannah found herself climbing onto Sjoeke’s lap, mouths still joined together. Now that she had had a taste of this, she never wanted this to end. Sjoeke’s tongue slipped into her mouth, and the instant thrill that shot up Hannah’s spine had her clinging to the woman under her, nails digging into her back, under her t-shirt.
Sjoeke jerked back with a hiss, and Hannah took the opportunity to duck her head down and lick and kiss at her neck, barely resisting the urge to bite. She knew it wouldn’t do to give Sjoeke a visible mark in the middle of camp, but God, it was the only thing she wanted right now.
Well, not the only thing, but close enough.
“Hannah,” Sjoeke gasped, head falling back to allow Hannah’s lips to linger, even as she protested. “Hannah.”
Hannah pulled away, brain foggy, and took in the vision in front of her. Sjoeke looked dazed, eyes dark and glassy, but perhaps she still had a shred of sanity. “Hannah,” she repeated, as if trying to steady herself.
“Sio,” Hannah whispered back.
Sjoeke exhaled hard, clearly trying to collect herself. “I want this,” she started, gesturing between them, “I promise you. But what happens next?”
Hannah blinked, digesting the question. “Whatever you want. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“I want everything,” Sjoeke replied without hesitation. “Days with you. Dates, trips with you.” A pause, this one feeling far less perilous. “Nights with you,” she admitted.
A smile stretching across her face before she knew it, Hannah nodded. “So the same thing I want, then. Guess it’s settled.”
Sjoeke’s smile seemed permanently affixed to her face now, and Hannah had to try to commit the sight to memory. She hadn’t seen enough of it, as of late. The adrenaline that had been running rampant through her had long since ebbed away, letting in a sort of contentment that settled gently, replacing the heaviness inside. She reached out, thumb ghosting over the dimple in Sjoeke’s cheek briefly, before dropping her hand.
“I should go,” Hannah said, knowing it was the right thing to do at the moment. “I don’t want to,” she added hastily, heading off any protest. “But if I stay…”
Sjoeke nodded. “I understand.” She pecked Hannah on the cheek, then patted her thighs. Hannah climbed off Sjoeke, and the two made their way to the door.
Hannah squeezed Sjoeke’s hand one last time, needing to feel that this was real. “See you tomorrow?”
Sjoeke nodded, squeezing back. “Of course.”
“Good night, Sio,” Hannah said, and slipped out.
She was at the elevators, waiting, when her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was Sjoeke.
You have made me the happiest
Hannah tapped out a response before the elevator doors opened.
Never been happier <3