Chapter Text
Standing in the tunnel at Old Trafford ahead of kick-off for the game versus Aston Villa, I’m doing my best to control my emotions. I completely forgot about Crimson. The bitch is standing beside me, ready to lead her team onto the pitch in her claret with a blue-sleeve Villa jersey and white shorts. She hurt Ava. She hurt my Ava. The scar Crimson caused Ava is still on Ava’s forhead. She made Ava bleed, and everything in my body is begging me to make her bleed in kind today.
“Breathe, Breathe.” I whisper under my breath as I move up my captain’s armband on my red sleeve.
"Nervous, are we?” Crimson’s biting voice speaks over to me, and I almost punch her where she stands.
“Shut up.” I bite back as I shake with rage and keep my eyes firmly set on the old Trafford pitch as rain falls heavily from the clouded heavens.
"Aww, what’s the matter? Still upset I made your girl bleed?”
My eyes widen. I roll my hands into balls. They shake with such a deep need to punch Crimson that I can barely contain them. Breathe. Breathe. Just breathe, inhale, and exhale. Don't do anything stupid. I’m the club's captain. I may be consumed with Ava and rather be at home with her right now, but I do care about United, and that doesn’t just stop as much as I tell myself I don’t care anymore about football. I do. I do care. We’re in a tight battle for the title with Manchester City with only 5 games to go, and if we drop points today, we’ll hand the initiative back to them. I have to stay calm. I can’t be angry. I have to be at my best—not be an angry person out for revenge. I could really use Ava being behind me—in the line of players right now—rather than Camila. She’d sense my anger. She’d help me ignore Crimson.
I feel Crimson step sideways towards me. She gets close to my ear. “You better keep a close eye on her today, because I certainly will.” Crimson sniggers, then looks back down the line of my teammates. "Ooft, that scar on her pretty little head is a doozie, isn’t it?” Crimson turns back to me, and I side-eye the cruel brunette, who has such wide eyes that scream to me that she clearly enjoys the prospect of hurting Ava again.
“Stop talking.”
Crimson grins. “What are you going to do, huh? You wouldn’t want to jeopardise your club's title chances, would you?”
I snap my head to Crimson and snap back. “I said stop. I’m warning you, you bitch.”
“Go on, make a move. I dare you.” Crimson moves her foot on top of mine and digs her studs into my boot.
I wince, but I don’t stop staring her down. “You won’t touch Ava today, I swear.” Crimson twists her studs into my foot. I wince again and quickly grip Crimson’s jersey collar roughly. “Enough!”
Crimson laughs, and I feel Camila, I presume, trying to drag me away from Crimson, as a Villa player does the same behind Crimson. “You really love her, don’t you? Aww, how sweet.”
“Shut up!” I shouted through gritted teeth.
"Beatrice, let her go!” Camila pulls on my arm.
Crimson’s grin enrages me as it turns toothy. She roughly shrugs off one of her teammates and looks at her elbow. The same elbow she used to hurt Ava. “I think I’ll aim for her nose this time!”
My blood boils, and I go to hit Crimson. Another pair of hands grabs, then pulls my other arm back. “You’re finished! I..”
“Bea.” Ava’s soft, soothing voice sounds in my ear, and I soften. I turn back towards her, and I feel an immediate pang of regret as I see the look in her eyes. It’s soft. So soft. Everything about her calms me down. Her unstained Manchester United kit of a red shirt and black shorts, her hair that’s not covered in blood like it was in the snow—her whole being just calms my angry protective heart. She’s everything to me. I usually help her calm down when she’s feeling stressed, but now she's doing it for me. Just by a look in her eyes and a soft smile on her lips, my heavy breathing and desire to punch Crimson leave me. I’ve never felt so connected to someone before; we don’t even have to speak. We see each other. All of each other. Camila lets go of my arm, and I hear Crimson snapping at her teammates, but all I care about is Ava right now.
“I’m.. I’m sorry.”
Ava palms my cheek and strokes her thumb over my skin as I hear rain falling more heavily outside the tunnel. It’s just me and her. Me and her. No one else. “Don’t be sorry. I love how protective you are of me. Just don’t let her get to you. She doesn’t matter. She’s just a cruel player whose team we’re about to smash.” Ava adds a bit of teasing to her tone.
I snort. “Hell yeah, we are.”
Ava leans up and gently kisses me. It’s brief, but I moan into these lips. I know the feeling of Ava’s lips against mine off by heart now. She pulls away from me. “Come on, let's get this done.”
I smile, and Ava gets in line behind me. She rubs my arm. I move my hand on top of hers. I close my eyes and breathe. Just breathe; it’s okay. Ava’s right, don’t let Crimson get to me; just focus on getting the three points for my club.
I look at the rainy Old Trafford packed to the rafters and exhale a breath. Breathe in, breathe out, and just calm down. Forget Crimson.
The referees walk out onto the pitch, and I reluctantly let Ava’s hand go as I lead the team out. It’s loud as always. Just like it was at Villa Park when Ava was bleeding in that snow, just like it was when I knew I had fallen for Ava. I look back to Ava through the rain as flashes of Ava in mid-air being elbowed by Crimson fill my mind. Her hair is dampening just like it was dampened by blood on that day. I keep walking and see Ava’s smile, but my eyes travel up to her forehead, where the scar from Crimson’s handiwork still resides. It caused so much blood. Too much. I can’t bear it. I look away and squeeze my eyes shut. I can breathe. I can’t let Ava get hurt by Crimson again. I can’t. I can’t. I have to protect her.
I’ve never cared about anything as much as I do for Ava now. It terrifies me just how important she is to me. She’s my light. My joy. She’s given me so much light since I met her—since I started a relationship with her—and now she’s moved in with me full-time. All her stuff is at our home now. It’s not just my home; it’s ours now. It was such a big step to move in permanently. I love that we took that step. I love the simpleness of waking up next to her and having breakfast with her. I can’t lose that. What if Crimson hits her head again? What if Crimson really hurts her, and this time it’s more serious, I can’t let that happen. I can’t. I can’t.
—
The half-time whistle is about to blow, and I’m completely soaked through in my position at left back. My United top is clinging to my chest, and my hair is a soaking mess. We’re winning one nil yippee, that’s great, but I’m really eager for the half-time whistle right now to warm up a bit and dry off.
It hasn’t been as tough and physical a battle with Crimson as I feared today. I can’t lie. I did have some anxiety about facing Crimson again on the wing, but I’ve barely seen her thanks to Beatrice. She’s blocked her from coming near me completely. I love her protective nature, I really do, and today I’m so grateful for that. My mind is slightly eased by her high work rate, keeping Crimson away from me.
In the distance, a Villa player spreads a cross-field pass towards me. I stop. I never stop. Even after my head injury, I didn’t flinch when I got back to the pitch when going for headers. I do now. I just remember the pain, the blood, and the weakness I felt after Crimson's elbow connected with my head as I lay on the snowy floor. The ball gets closer, and I feel my scar on my head with my fingers. It’s faded, but it’s there; it’s a constant reminder of that day. A constant reminder of the pain and the blood. I see in the corner of my eye Crimson running for the ball to intercept. I don’t move. I can’t. Beatrice sprints towards me with a clear look of determination In her eyes. She’s as soaked as me. I didn't see until now just how muddy she is, though. She’s been sliding on the ground and throwing Crimson about like a rag doll today.
The ball flies my way. It comes closer and closer. I don’t move. Beatrice does, though she sprints and sprints. Not towards the ball. Towards Crimson. “Argh!!” Beatrice tackles Crimson to the ground like she’s playing rugby rather than football, and the ball falls to my feet.
“Get off me!” Crimson struggles on the ground as the ref blows the whistle. Beatrice isn’t letting her go. She’s holding her down, hugging her in a tight, unflinching hold. “I said get off!” Beatrice stays down and doesn’t let go.
I shake myself, crouch down, and place my hands on Bea’s shoulders. “Bea, let go. It’s okay. Let go.” Beatrice releases her grip, and Crimson rolls away with a sniggering look in her cruel face. I don’t care about Crimson. I care about Beatrice. Only Beatrice and I try to help her to her feet. She stops as she gets to her knees.
“I can’t...I can't." Beatrice clutches her chest, and I rush around her to see her pupils darting around in distress. Her chest is heaving heavily. “Crimson almost..almost, she..she.” Bea’s breath goes even more laboured.
I move to rest my knees on the muddy pitch, not caring if my knees get completely drenched and soaked in mud. Bea’s having a panic attack. I’ve never seen her panic about anything before. Other than Milan, when she ran away from me. This is different, though. This isn’t a quiet hotel room. It’s on a muddy, rainy pitch, and she clutches her chest tightly. I hesitate for a moment as I move my hands to her soaked cheeks. If one of us were to ever have a panic attack, I thought it would be me. Not Beatrice. It’s so distressing to see her like this; she's always the calm, steady one. My hands feel numb as I palm her cheeks.
“Ava, are you...are you...” Beatrice tries to speak as she keeps struggling to breathe.
Get it together! I scold myself inwardly. Beatrice needs me. If I didn’t know just how important I’ve become to Beatrice, I do now. She’s just as important to me. She’s my whole world at the moment, and she‘s so distressed at the possibility of me coming to harm by Crimson’s hand again that she can’t breathe. “I’m okay, Bea. It’s alright, just breathe.”
Bea’s breath isn’t calm. Her eyes don’t focus on me; they keep darting around in panic: “I..I can’t..I..you..Crimson.”
I quickly move my forehead onto Bea’s and keep my shivering hands on her cheeks. The rain falls on us both, and thousands are watching. I don’t care. I have to help my Beatrice. “Deep breathes, baby; it’s okay; just breathe in like me.” I inhale deeply for 4 seconds, and Beatrice shakily follows. “Breathe out.” I exhale for 4 seconds, and again, Beatrice tries to follow. “That’s it. You’re doing so great. Come on, do it again for me. Breathe In.” I inhale, and Beatrice follows my lead again. Bea’s breath isn’t as shaky this time as I hold her cheeks in my hands, close my eyes, and rest my forehead on hers. “Breathe out.” Bea’s exhaling breath is calmer and steadier. So much steadier.
“Ava I can’t..” Bea’s voice breaks, and I pull her into a fierce hug. She grips my back with her strong hands, “I can’t bear it; I can’t. I’ve never cared about anything or anyone like I do for you. I..I love you so much. She was going to hurt you again. Not again. I can't see you like that again. I can’t see you in pain.”
I bury my nose in Bea’s shoulder and hold her tight as she cries. My heart melts at how much Beatrice truly loves me. It’s on display for the world to see, but more importantly, it’s fully on display for me. How lucky I am now to have someone as kind and loving as Beatrice care for me this much. I knew JC for years, the little shit, and he never showed this much care for my safety; he never treated me like I was his everything, like Beatrice does. She’s my everything too. “It’s okay.” My own voice breaks, and I cradle Bea’s head in the rain. “I’m okay. I’m okay. I love you so much too.”