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litg-burnbook · 10 months

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Making excuses for the LIs if they bring back a girl from Casa— an exercise:

I wrote 80,000 words to make Suresh’s actions make sense. I’m a professional when it comes to making excuses for mens bad behaviour. I can do this.

So without further ado, here’s what the LIs were thinking:

Jamal:

He’s never been serious with a girl before. That grand gesture was out of character for him, and then she just left the villa… and he was going to follow her out. Holy. Shit. He is panicking. He’s never had feelings like this before. He’s never felt this way about a girl before. He is freaking out.

He was going to follow her out on national tv. He was going to put himself out there like that, risk everything, potentially humiliate himself… and he is very, very frightened.

Cue Casa Amor. Meets Flo. She’s hot, she’s fun, and she’s absolutely not the kind of girl he wants to be with forever. He can go back to what’s normal- to the flings and short term options he’s used to, that he’s comfortable with. He’s in absolute denial about his feelings for MC, it’s way too much for him to deal with. He can’t be falling in love with a girl he’s known a few weeks.

It takes a few days at CA, but he’s starting to relax. Flo is easy. Flo is comfortable.

Until he gets back to the villa… and MC is there. Those feelings come rushing back.

There’s no easy way out of this one.

Ryan:

He’s always trusted the universe. Every major decision, every “vibe” he’s gotten from someone he’s met… the universe has always had his back. Damn, it led him to love island. It led him to MC.

When she leaves, he knows he has to trust the universe, but something doesn’t feel right. For the first time in his life… he wants to fight for it. He wants to leave with her, universe be damned. He’s never felt like this before, and he can’t take the risk that the universe won’t bring them back together. It would crush him. Ryan runs out the front door of the villa, telling her to wait, but he’s too late. She’s already gone. The universe wins again.

He arrives at CA, and the universe is telling him something. Flo. That’s been almost his motto his whole life. Go with the flow. Follow the music, go where life takes you. It’s a sign- it has to be.

It feels so wrong, but he chooses her anyway. There must be some reason for it- a plan or a pathway that he needs to follow. So he goes along with it.

But when he sees MC back in the villa… he makes up his mind. Universe be damned. He’s never letting her go again.

Lewie:

Lewie’s been set on her since day one. From the moment he met her, he kinda knew. There was something special about her, something he wasn’t going to find anywhere else. He was set.

But the thing about Lewie… he’s a little bit too… how would you put it? Nice. He’s always been a little bit too nice. A little too honest, a little too willing to step aside and not go after what he wants. He’s agreeable to a fault. Honest. Friendly. Loyal. He’s a team player, even if it means giving up his own shot at goal.

His grand gesture was the moment. He wanted to tell her how he felt. He’d found what he was looking for. He knew she wanted to be with him outside, she’d said so herself.

So why didn’t she ask him to leave with her?

He didn’t want to put pressure on her by just packing his bag. If she wanted him to, she would’ve asked. Wouldn’t she?

Casa arrives. Lewie’s still there. He’s sleeping on the daybeds. He’s loyal to her. The lads are telling him he’s an idiot. “She’s gone,” they said. “She didn’t ask you to leave with her, so may as well crack on.” It feels wrong. He knows what he wants. He still wants to follow her out, but with every passing day, it feels more and more stupid. Further and further away.

He’d blown it.

He’d had his shot with MC and he’d blown it. By not following her out, he’d made his choice. She’d never be interested now.

And along came Flo.

It felt wrong. It felt so awful and wrong, but she was a second chance. A chance to do things right. To try to form a connection with someone that would last. A chance to find someone he could bring home to his Nana. He didn’t feel the same way about Flo as he did about MC, but at this point did it even matter? He would never have a shot with MC again. She was gone. And even if he saw her again, she’d never want him.

… or would she?

Roberto:

He wasn’t planning on falling for her. He knew she was gorgeous, and he found her intriguing, but he never planned on having feelings this strong. Since the day he met her, he knew there was something special between them, and he wasn’t planning on letting her go.

But there was always the matter of distance.

Portugal is a long way from the UK. His job took him all over the world. He would never be the type of boyfriend who could be there when she woke up every morning, or be waiting for her to get home in the evenings. He would always be fighting with distance. And he knew it worried her. When she was dumped from the island, he was devastated, of course, but this gave him an opportunity.

What better way to show her that the distance would only ever be a blip on their radar?

Flo was only ever a strategic move. He knew that he had to make it through to the finale. He needed that £50k. Moving to the UK was expensive, and he’d need it. He was going to do it for MC, for the girl he loved, the one who didn’t care about his bad dancing or corny lines. The one who loved him exactly the way he was.

He was doing it for the money. He was doing it for her.

Ozzy:

He’d left it too late. He had one chance and he’d left it too late.

It would’ve been weird to follow her out, right? They weren’t even in a couple. One kiss and a few whispered conversations weren’t enough to figure out if you’ve found the one.

So why did he kind of want to do it anyway?

He was being crazy, he knew he was. There was no way he’d fallen for MC that fast, and from afar. He had to get his head back into the game. And the game was about to get complicated.

He knew she’d be watching at home. And he knew what her main concern would be. It would be the same thing she’d been worried about since the very first day.

Did he like Grace more than her?

There was only one way to show her.

Flo was great, but not at all his type. It was obvious they were just friends. And she was perfectly willing to go along with it.

He would bring Flo back to show MC that he was done with Grace. Even when MC wasn’t there, he was done. He’d sooner recouple with a girl he barely knew, bringing her back to the villa for her own shot at love. But he needed to make it clear.

Him and Grace were done.

Elliot:

Life is a game of strategy. Every decision, every choice, the result of a dice roll telling you how successful you’ll be.

And strategy was all he could do.

He liked MC. Really liked her. But when she got dumped, there wasn’t much he could do about it. He could’ve followed her out, but god, her original love interest was damn near chomping at the bit to do that. She looked so uncomfortable at the thought— he couldn’t put her in that position. She would feel obligated toward him forever, knowing he gave up his shot on Love Island to be with her after only a day? That was way too much pressure to put on a new relationship.

Even if it did feel like she might’ve been his endgame.

Casa Amor was a whirlwind, but he had a strategy as usual. He just had to bring a girl back. Last season had sent home anyone who was left single, and he now no longer had a partner in the villa. He couldn’t risk going home yet- the exposure from being on the show was too great. He needed this boost to his profile if he was going to get the money he needed to build a life for himself and MC— Err— for himself and the girl he’d end up with. So he had to switch.

But strategies don’t always pay off.

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litg-burnbook · 11 months

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Okay everyone, take this as my official introduction to the LITG fandom! I haven't written any fanfic in 5+ years, and this is my first LITG fic, so please be kind!!

I'll be uploading to ao3 as soon as I'm off the waitlist (didn't realize there was one, whoops), so for now please enjoy it here!!

Excited to talk and theorize this season with you all 🥰

💕 MC/Lewie fluff

🏠 Post-villa AU

📝 7.2k+ words

“Babes, fuck, I’ve really gotta go!”

Lewie rarely swore. Sage had noticed that about him pretty early on, and she found something so charming and pure about it. When he did swear, it came out of him as more of an aggressive whisper than anything else, and sometimes he even apologized after. She’s pretty sure she had uttered a curse at least once every time she spoke in the villa, but he never minded. He always gave her his softest, cheekiest smile, like he was amused with the language that would come out of her mouth. The first time she heard him swear was when he stubbed his toe on the end of their bed one night, a few nights after they were finally allowed to be a couple for the first time in the villa. The “Oooh, shit” had come out of him so quietly Sage wasn’t sure if she even heard him correctly. But for some reason, the innocence of it all had made her heart flutter.

Since then, Lewie has only cursed aloud in front of her if one of four things were happening: 1) he hurt himself (for a professional midfielder, Sage always wondered how he could be so clumsy around his own furniture), 2) he was drunk, 3) they were fucking (Sage’s personal favourite; the first time she heard his low growl ‘fuck’ she nearly came right then and there), and 4) he was running late to the pitch. Today was number four.

It was their last game of the season, and if they won, they would be promoted to Championship football. They weren’t expecting to be this successful this season and Sage could see the pressure was starting to mount on Lewie over the past few months. It had been even worse for him over the past week after an unexpected loss, and she worried he was spending too much time taking care of his teammates instead of himself. She did everything she could to ease his stress - two-hour back rubs, making his favourite dinners, motivational pep talks that she wasn’t sure were working or not, and a lot of blowjobs. She never imagined herself enjoying blowjobs as much as she does now, but it was something about the way he reacted to her - his low moans and subtle gasps as his body shook from pleasure - that made her go just as crazy. And Lewie never let her go without returning the favour. In those moments Sage could see his stress crumble as he allowed himself to breathe, but it never took long for his walls to go back up. He tried to hide it as best he could so as not to worry her, but she felt him toss and turn at night, noticed how often he was zoning out, and saw something that resembled fear behind his small smiles. He brushed it off as nerves, but he was a terrible liar.

Sage came out of the bathroom, scrunching her damp, blonde hair in a towel to see Lewie hurriedly tying his training boots and muttering to himself. He was dressed in his warmup gear - a blue training jacket that complemented his blue eyes perfectly and fitted black and white joggers that left little to the imagination - with his duffle bag already thrown over his shoulder. He hadn’t had time to fix his hair that morning so his blonde strands looked like a dishevelled mess, but hell, she didn’t mind. He looked so fucking good.

Almost two years later and she still couldn’t believe her luck. Their luck. They had won Love Island with over fifty per cent of the vote, her sister had come in second with Marshall, and her and Lewie’s best friends, Grace and Ozzy, had come third. Lewie’s old football team had been promoted to a higher league that same summer - something he described as only the second best thing that had happened to him that year - and shortly after, he had been transferred to Charlton United, a London team that brought him into the third tier of English football, and right into Sage’s flat. They had excitedly made plans to move into a larger place if his team got promoted this year, somewhere a bit closer to the training facility, and she was planning on opening up another gym in Greenwich.

Everything was going a little too perfectly with them. It scared her sometimes, and each day she woke up half expecting World War III to be burning outside because at least that would make a bit more sense than whatever fucking perfection was going on here. Both of them got along with each other’s parents (even their parents were good friends now), Sage had been preparing to move to Cardiff until Lewie landed here by some miracle, they were planning to get a dog together (and both wanted a Bernese Mountain Dog since they were children, go figure), and if she thought she was in love with him the night they won, she wasn’t sure what to call it now. Something even deeper, more profound, something unspoken between the two of them that gave way in small touches and glances.

They had fights, of course, but Lewie was almost just as perfect during an argument. He handled her hot temper with grace, never raising his voice and allowing her space to cool down before they could talk calmly. He owned up to his mistakes and apologized whenever he did something wrong, which was rare. Sage could see why he made captain at his new club within just three months. He just had a natural easiness and camaraderie with everyone he encountered. She would spend the rest of her life wondering why he chose her if he gave her that gift.

“Babes, gimme a kiss real quick, I have to go!” His hurried Welsh accent snapped her out of her thoughts and she smiled at him, kissing him with sweet haste. “I’ll see you at the game, yeah?”

“I’ll be the one wearing number eight,” she winked. She found it funny that he still asked when she hadn’t missed a game - home and away - since they’d been in London together. “Don’t forget, Amelia and Marshall and Ozzy and Grace are coming too!”

“It’d be hard to forget with all of Ozzy’s good luck messages,” he laughed. He gave her another kiss, this time letting it linger with a soft hand on her cheek. “I’ll see you lot there. I love you.”

“Good luck babes, I love you. You got this.” They shared another smile before he left, and she had to laugh as she glanced at the clock. Lewie considered himself “late” if he wasn’t at least two hours early.

Sage would always be grateful that Lewie was on the pitch and not with her in the stands, screaming a curse every other word and maybe bullying the referee just a little. He may appreciate her passion, but be utterly horrified by the words coming out of her mouth. She blamed her dad, who had season tickets to Arsenal games while she was growing up, and exposing her to football culture at a young age. She cursed for the first time when she was 11, calling the referee a “fucking wanker” in her oversized Thierry Henry shirt, and perhaps the first time she made her dad proud. She did get a lecture about her language afterwards, but it was hard to take her dad seriously when he couldn’t stop smiling.

Thankfully, Amelia was with her today, so she didn’t have to hide it like when she watched games with Lewie’s parents. God, that had been torture. His parents assured her they didn’t mind, but they shared the same tranquil nature as Lewie and she didn’t want to ruin their peace by screaming at a man just trying to officiate the match, however poorly he was doing it.

“Oi, what a piece of fucking garbage!” Amelia huffed and sipped her beer, shaking her head. “What piece of shit let him graduate referee school?”

“They’re all pieces of fucking shit!” Sage countered, shaking her head and sipping her drink in unison with Amelia. They were only twenty minutes into the match, but that was more than enough time for their blood pressure to spike. Behind them, Ozzy and Grace silently watched the match, chuckling at Sage and Amelia.

“You two are the real entertainment here,” Grace laughed, wrapping her arm around Ozzy’s. “Who would have thought I’d enjoy a football match this much?”

Marshall slung his arm around Amelia’s shoulder, wearing a bright smile as he watched the match. “I’ve gotta bring you to more games, love, your yelling is kinda turning me on.” With that, Amelia giggled as she buried herself into him. Sage was about to tell them to get a fucking room, but the referee then allowed the opposing team a penalty kick after a very unintentional and barely noticeable “handball” and she felt her anger being redirected.

“Oh, what the fuck buddy?! Did you even pass your last eye exam?!”

“I’ll pay for your new frames you fuckin’ shithead!”

Grace stifled a giggle as Ozzy playfully shook his head. “You know he can’t hear you two, right?”

“If he could, I’d be banned from this place a long time ago,” Sage mused, watching as the other team scored an easy goal from their penalty. “Oh, fuck.”

Amelia’s face fell as she swapped glances with the rest of the group, a knowing look on all of them that resembled the subtle fear Lewie had been carrying around with him all week. Marshall hugged Amelia closer, quietly whispering, “It’s alright, he’s got time. Still early.”

Sage found Lewie on the pitch as they fell back into their starting formation, watching as he energised his teammates and ensured their heads were still in the game. He moved to the crowd then, lifting his arms and clapping to make sure they were still energized too. Sage loved how much he loved his fans - he knew they were an integral part of the team’s success and their noise always motivated him. Once he got the crowd roaring again, he looked for her face in the seat that’s been reserved for her all season, and smiled sweetly when he caught her eye. As he waited for the whistle he placed his hand subtly over his heart, and she mimicked the motion, smiling knowingly at each other until the whistle forced his attention back to the game.

“God, you two are so perfect,” Amelia sighed, smiling at her sister. “And you’re going to have very blonde and perfect adorable little babies one day.”

Sage couldn’t help but smile, shaking her head a little. “Well, you’re going to have little Jason Mamoas running around, so you’re one to talk.” She wrapped her arm around her sister and leaned into her, sighing softly. “Babes, this is the biggest game of Lewie’s career so far, and if he loses this one I’m afraid I won’t be able to comfort him in the way he needs.”

“Oh please,” Amelia scoffed, squeezing Sage’s shoulder. “That boy lives to make you happy. He’ll be okay as long as he knows the people around him are okay, especially you. Besides, he’s got a lot of reasons to fight for this one.”

Sage would’ve questioned her further, but Lewie had the ball and he was making the Oxford players look like they still played in youth league. She cheered as he showed off his footwork, manoeuvering himself and the ball out of small spaces, eventually serving a perfect cross to the box and right at the feet of their striker in waiting. He hit the ball perfectly, and it soared into the back of the net, triggering the crowd to erupt in a crazed hype of applause and yells. Sage was confident she was the loudest of them all.

It stayed 1-1 until halftime, and Marshall and Ozzy left to retrieve everyone another round of drinks. With a bit more alcohol in their system, Amelia and Sage grew a little louder and a bit more brazen in the second half, with Grace joining in on the referee shaming, laughing every time she insulted him. “Oh shit, this is fun!” she mused.

Eighty-eight minutes in and they were all a bit more rigid as the game came down to the wire. A tie wouldn’t matter, they needed to win if they wanted to be promoted, and the whole stadium felt it. Sage had her eyes fixed on Lewie for the past ten or so minutes, watching as his sweat coated him in a sweet glisten and made more noticeable the tan he’d been developing over the spring, and his already insane quads. He adjusted his captain’s armband as he waited for a throw-in, running his hands through his drenched hair, although it was no use. He subtly battled with an Oxford player as they awaited the throw-in, deep in Oxford’s territory. When the ball landed at his feet, Sage swore she had never seen such determination and hostility in his otherwise innocent blue eyes. Fuck, she thought, biting her lip. He’s going to get the fuck of his life tonight. He won the battle (as he usually does), and started dribbling toward the Oxford box, only one defender in his way-

“What the fuck?!”

Lewie had yelled so loud when he hit the ground that she was sure the TV audience at home probably heard it. The defender had tackled him savagely just outside the box, prompting a quick whistle and a yellow card that most certainly should have been red. Sage watched as Lewie got up and wiped some grass and sweat off his forehead, shaking his head. She breathed a quick sigh of relief knowing that he was okay, but her anxiety refused to let up as Lewie prepared for the free kick. He lifted his shirt to wipe his face, his abs peaking through and glistening in sweat as he chattered with a teammate about their tactic.

Lewie was going to go for it. She knew he was, and the team would be stupid not to let him. Whereas he wasn’t always the most confident around her, he was confident on the pitch and he was confident as fuck when it came to free kicks. That was his speciality. Her magician.

He waited for the whistle as he quickly looked in her direction, giving her that signature smile and hand on his heart. She replicated the motion, giving him an encouraging nod that she wasn’t sure he’d be able to see.

“Come on, Lew,” Amelia muttered anxiously, her hands on her face. The clock was at ninety minutes now, and the assistant referee announced there would be just two added minutes.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, two?! What a fuckin’ shithead.” Sage was practically bouncing up and down now, shaking her head at the referee and holding her hands together to calm her nerves. Grace put her hands on her shoulder, giving them a quick squeeze.

“He’s got this, love,” she whispered encouragingly.

The whistle sounded, and Sage watched as Lewie’s chest moved with a deep breath, his hands at his hips. His vision narrowed on the top right corner of the goal, and then the ball, and he delicately jogged up to it, kicking it forcefully with a curve to get it behind the wall. The entire stadium held their breath at that moment, a deafening silence as everyone watched the path of the ball…which made the ding of the crossbar that much more painful. Sage’s breath hitched as the rest of the stadium groaned and yelled unpleasantly, but she could barely hear them. Her senses were locked on Lewie, who was trying to save the play after the ball bounced back into the box, but a defender quickly punted it out of play.

The whistle sounded to declare the game over.

The Oxford away fans stormed the pitch from the other end, where their players met them halfway, shouting and celebrating like it was their home pitch.

But she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Lewie. He had collapsed to his knees after the whistle, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, hands on his hips. He was completely zoned out, staring at the crossbar. She didn’t want to imagine what kind of shit the fans yelling at him behind the goal right now. He ran a hand through his hair before leaning forward on his arms, his head in the damp grass, and she hoped that would help muffle the sound of the stadium. If he needed to be in his own world for a moment, then he deserved to do that for however long he needed.

It seemed like he was in that position for ages before he slowly climbed up to his feet, the life drained from his features as he used the end of his shirt to wipe his eyes. He walked over defeatedly to his teammates who had also let their legs collapse from underneath them, some of them sitting in the grass, some laying on their backs, some just standing motionless as they tried to drown out the celebrations on the other end.

He hoisted each one of them up, telling them something in their ear and slapping their back affectionately. He gathered the entire team before they walked to the stands, applauding and thanking their fans for giving them their Saturday afternoon and sticking with them.

They made their way around the stadium, and Sage saw Lewie crack a small smile for the first time as he met a young fan in the first row. The little boy had been crying, but something Lewie said made him smile, and his eyes lit up when Lewie took off his jersey and handed it to him.

What a fucking man, Sage thought, her own tears glistening in her eyes. Just had the worst heartbreak of his life and he’s out here making sure this boy has something good to leave here with.

As the team made their way into the tunnels, Lewie looked up at her seat for the first time and mustered a small smile, shirtless and fiddling with his captain armband in his hands. She offered a smile back, but he had already switched his gaze to Amelia. He shook his head subtly at her before looking down and heading into the locker room.

Amelia sighed sadly next to her, and Sage glanced over, asking, “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” Amelia smiled, wiping a tear from her eye. “C’mon, let’s go wait for him outside.” She wrapped her arm around Sage before they joined the rest of the crowd shuffling out.

An hour later and Sage was climbing into the car with Lewie, who had switched into a white t-shirt and grey joggers. He had taken a quick shower, but his hair was still a mess, and his eyes were red with strain.

“Lewie, you still up for dinner, mate?” Ozzy called gently, opening his passenger door for Grace.

“Yeah,” Lewie replied through the window, and it wasn’t lost on Sage that his voice was just slightly hoarse. “We’ll see you lot there at 8, yeah?”

“See you there, Lew!,” Amelia called, smiling at him encouragingly. “You did great today by the way.” Lewie just nodded as Amelia and Marshall got into their car, driving away behind Grace and Ozzy. Lewie watched as they drove off and once they were out of sight he dropped his hand from the gear shift and leaned forward, resting his forehead on the steering wheel and burying his face into his hands.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered softly, his body slightly shaking.

Sage had never seen him like this. He’d lost before, but he never carried it like this. He always tried to find the positives after a loss - “we just need to work on our defence more”, “I’ve gotta get the guys to play with a bit more heart next time”, “we can beat them next time, it was just a bad day”, “I’ll train harder next time”, “we need to work on our set piece tactics, that’s all”. She understood why this loss was so different - he had been so fucking close to the Championship league and it fell apart right in front of him, at ninety minutes and not enough time to recover. There was no ‘next time’, at least not until the new season in three months, where they’d have to start from scratch again. She felt his pain then when the crossbar dinged, when the final whistle sounded, and she feels it now. She felt everything with him. But she wanted more than that - she wanted to make him feel okay with the loss, at peace with it, she wanted him to know that she was still so fucking proud of him and that was never going to change.

She rested her hand on his back, rubbing it softly as he tried to steady his breathing. “Babes,” she started gently. “I know this one fucking hurts, but you have to know how fucking proud of you I am. One bad moment does not define you. You played your fucking heart out there today and you were bloody amazing. Can we talk about that fucking assist? Blew my fucking mind. And after the game, you let yourself process your thoughts for however long you needed before getting the team together and thanking the fans, who don’t always deserve it, but you do it anyway because that’s who you are. You made a little kid’s whole fucking week because you want others to be happy even when you’re not. You encourage everyone around you to be better, you make sure everyone around you is okay, and you deserve that peace too. This one will take some time, yeah, but next season you won’t just be fucking promoted, you’ll win the whole fucking thing. I’ve never met anyone as determined or modest as you, and you deserve the whole fucking world.”

He sighed and sat up straighter, looking over at her for the first time and taking her hand softly into his own, kissing it sweetly. “I love you. Thank you for always being here, win or lose, or…tie.” He squeezed her hand gently and smiled sweetly, but she could tell he was still holding something back. He looked down at her hand, sighing softly again. “I just…” he started, swallowing. “I didn’t know what to say to them. In the locker room. I had no idea what to fucking say. This one was big and it was my bloody fault.”

“Hey.” Her voice was soft as she held his cheek in her hand, his stubble tickling her slightly. “It wasn’t your fault. You led this team so fucking well this year and brought them to where they are right now, isn’t that right, Mr. Leads-The-League-In-Assists?”

He smiled a little wider this time, nodding hesitantly. “Yeah,” he mused. “I just…” He trailed off, waving his hand slightly. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” He gave her an almost-convincing smile as he squeezed her hand again. “I love you more than anything, you know that, right?” His eyes were as sincere as she’d ever seen them, and she felt his love just through his gaze. Two years later and she was still getting butterflies.

“Yeah, I know. I love you just as much, if not more.”

He scoffed at that. “Mmm, sure. Let’s get you home so we can get ready for dinner.” He leaned over to give her a kiss and she held him to her lips, kissing him hard, trying to convey all of her love and pride for him in just that single moment.

They didn’t get to the restaurant until it was almost 8:30 - Sage’s fault, and definitely not Lewie’s, who had been ready an hour and a half earlier. He had come to expect this after nearly two years together, hell, he knew it way back in the villa when she was always the last to come downstairs. He never minded it, he actually loved it - she was always worth the wait. And once they moved in together he started being something like her hype man, watching her try on outfit after outfit and telling her how fucking amazing she looked in everything. He wasn’t much of a help in that way, he supposed, but he wasn’t lying, and he definitely wasn’t planning on stopping. Once an outfit rendered him speechless, she knew she had found the one. Tonight, it was a sleek, pastel pink dress that hugged her curves with a slit that travelled to her thigh, and for a few moments, as he stared at her, he forgot all about the match.

They walked into the restaurant hand in hand, scanning the room for their friends until Amelia waved them down from a corner table. Lewie moved his hand to Sage’s lower back, guiding her over and awaiting the surprise when she saw-

“Our parents?!” She exclaimed, looking up at him in shock. He just smiled, nodded and led her over to see them.

They greeted their parents happily, and Lewie pretended not to notice his mum’s lingering gaze on his still reddened eyes. He was surprised when Sage’s dad opted for a hug instead of their usual handshake but took it appreciatively. They had grown quite close over the past couple of years - her dad was well into his football and tried to convert him into an Arsenal fan but with no luck. He went to a lot of his games, always sitting with Sage, and Lewie was pretty sure he’d heard them wildly insult the ref on numerous occasions. He never said anything - he didn’t want to embarrass her, and he loved the image of her and her dad acting like lunatics in the stands. It never bothered him, he was proud that she had his back like that. He just smiled to himself and played harder for her.

“I’m sorry about the match, Lewie,” her dad spoke quietly into his ear. “You played great as always, but I’m sorry you couldn’t go through with your plan.” He gave Lewie an encouraging smile as he pulled away, squeezing his shoulder affectionately. “Right, now that they finally showed up, can we eat?”

Throughout dinner, Lewie’s hand never left Sage’s thigh, like letting go of it would just bring him back to the ding of the crossbar. Her touch was like a fucking drug, starving off the bad thoughts that he had after every poor match. He tried to keep it to himself most of the time, which was usually pretty easy, but this one was nearly impossible to keep in. He had plans. And he worried that the ding of the fucking crossbar would ruin everything. He gently squeezed her thigh as he tried to convince himself that the fucking ding wouldn’t haunt his dreams tonight.

He listened as Sage laughed with Amelia, trading stories of their childhood like they always did when they were together. He was surprised at how many stories they had, but they always left him amused as he imagined a young Sage getting into trouble. He talked with her parents a bit more, going over his plans for the summer and when his pre-season training would start up again. He reminisced on villa memories with Marshall, Grace, and Ozzy, bringing him back to one of the happiest times of his life as he held Sage closer. His mom had told him what a great game he had, and that it must’ve been a gust of wind that moved the ball to the crossbar. He appreciated the effort, but it left him feeling worse. Sage dropped her hand to his thigh then, squeezing it assuredly and smiling at him. He mustered up a smile of his own, but it couldn’t help the pit in his stomach.

After they had finished eating, Lewie reluctantly left Sage’s side to get a drink at the bar at Ozzy’s request. He ran his hand through his hair as he leaned on the bar, fiddling with one of the coasters. “You can still do it, y’know,” Ozzy muttered, looking over at him.

Lewie shrugged defeatedly, sighing sadly. “You know it’s complicated now.”

“She would follow you across the fucking globe, mate.”

“I don’t want to put her in that position.” He glanced over at their table, watching with butterflies in his stomach as she tipped her head back and laughed intoxicatingly at something her dad said. The pit returned soon after, though, as he was reminded of the circumstances. “I’m not moving her away from her family.”

“You remember when she almost moved to Cardiff with you?”

“I went along with it because I knew I had the London offer coming in,” Lewie admitted, flipping the coaster in his hands.

“Well,” Ozzy sighed. “What I’m trying to say is that was further than where you might be going now.” The bartender came over and took their order, pouring their two scotches quickly before handing it over. “You just need to talk to her. Let her have a say in this decision.”

“I’m not going, Oz,” Lewie said, taking a sip of his scotch. “I’m staying in London. We have plans here. She has family here. We have you guys here.”

“So you’re going to deny the opportunity you’ve been given because what?” Ozzy was facing him now, waving his arm around, growing a bit impatient. “Because you think she’s going to say no? Because she’ll miss her family? You guys will be a train ride away from here, and all of the plans you have here can be done elsewhere.”

“It’s more than a train ride,” he muttered. “Her life has always been here, Ozzy. She’s happy here. She has family here, her business is here. We have another shot next season, I’ll just make damn sure it happens for us this time.” He rubbed his face in his hands, shaking his head. “She’s done so much for me already, mate, I have to give her something in return. She deserves this at least.”

“Lewie, at least give her the fucking option. If she found out you had this offer on the table and you didn’t take it, she’ll never forgive you.” Ozzy took a swig of his scotch, shaking his head. “Scratch that, she probably would eventually forgive you, but that’s just how much she fucking loves you. And if we’re talking about what she deserves, she deserves to know what’s going on with your life right now.” He gave him a pointed look before walking back to the table, sitting down beside Grace and wrapping his arm around her, getting himself up to speed with the conversation.

Lewie slowly drank the rest of his scotch at the bar, battling himself in his mind and mulling over the past few months. He would have bet on a promotion two months ago when the team was in top form and playing well together. But one bad game after another, and here they were. He blamed himself for a lot of it - as captain, he should have led the team better. He should have kept them motivated. He should have done a better job at reminding them what was on the line. Maybe he should have been harder on them. Maybe he should have been more understanding. Maybe he should have been practising his fucking free kicks a lot more. He had no fucking clue, but he would be going over every moment in his mind for a long time, no matter where he ended up at the end of the summer. He would’ve loved to keep playing with this team - he was proud of how much better they’d gotten over the season, he was close friends with a few of the guys, and they were in London. He’d been here for a year and a half now, and he liked to think this is where his life was. Surrounded by friends, Sage’s family, her business, and her. Her life was here and he’d worried she wouldn’t feel at home anywhere else. She’d been more than willing to move to Cardiff with him after the show, but he made her wait until the January transfer window, knowing he had a few clubs interested in him. The London move was a dream come true for both of them, and he knew she’d been relieved. He’d hate taking that dream away now.

His eyes flashed up to the screen above the bar, seeing the match’s highlights playing over. He sighed as he watched the free kick, cringing at seeing how fucking close he had been. He swore he could hear the ding all over again as he finished his scotch and returned to the table.

Sage looked questioningly at him as he sat down, but he squeezed her hand under the table to let her know everything was alright. He had no fucking idea if it actually was, but he did know Ozzy was right. She deserved to know what was going on with him.

Everyone said their goodbyes not long after, and Sage thanked their parents for the surprise. Lewie shared another hug with her dad, thanking him for coming to his match and to dinner. “You still have my blessing,” he just replied quietly. “Win or lose, or tie, her answer will be the same.” Lewie smiled and nodded his appreciation, trying to ignore the pang in his stomach.

As they climbed into their car, Sage sighed loudly. “You alright, babes?,” he asked, looking over at her as he shut the door.

“Lewie, what the fuck is going on?” She asked, looking at him pointedly, her soft green eyes pleading with him. “Why are our parents out for dinner with us? And more importantly, why are your parents here from Wales, and why was it such a fucking surprise?” She sighed again, running her fingers through her blonde waves. “Amelia has been acting weird all day, you’ve been acting weird, my dad has been acting weird, Ozzy has been acting weird - and what happened at the bar with you two? It didn’t look like he was very happy with you.”

He sighed softly, moving his body awkwardly in the car so that he was facing her. He took her hands in his, fiddling with the rings she wore, and noticing how empty her ring finger looked. She deserves to know what is going on in my life, he told himself, taking a deep breath. No matter how much it scared him, she deserved a choice. He looked up into her eyes, admiring how the moonlight bounced off them. He noticed that on their first date in the villa, when he was telling her his dreams and his dream date, and he felt his body fill with warmth as he remembered taking her on that very date a week after the show ended. They had been through so much since then, but he never doubted their relationship, never doubted that she was his person, never doubted that they would grow old together with their five plus dogs and a house on the beach.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

The question caught him off guard, and he shook his head, looking at her incredulously. And he couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Babes, if I were breaking up with you, why the hell would I invite our parents?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, looking down and laughing. They giggled together for a minute, and he welcomed the sound. It calmed him. “But you’re being very serious and very weird tonight, so it crossed my mind.”

He shook his head again, smiling softly but confidently at her like it was the wildest thought she ever had. “We weren’t supposed to lose today,” he started finally, squeezing her hands. “It wasn’t the plan.” He sighed as she moved her body to face him.

“That’s okay,” she started softly. “You still played amazing, and next season you’re going to win the whole fucking thing. You guys are more than-”

He nodded, gently putting his finger to her lips. “I know,” he smiled. “Thank you for saying that, but please, let me finish.” She nodded, kissing his finger and letting him continue. “I had a plan for today - I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Once we started climbing the table earlier in the season, I thought about it. For a bit, I thought no way in hell we wouldn’t be promoted. We were doing really well, in top form, and so I planned something for the last game of the season. But then we had a couple of bad matches, and everyone else started playing good all of a sudden, and I just…” he trailed off, sighing again. He tried to keep himself on track. “My plan isn’t important, but losing the game today just mucked up a lot of stuff in my head. I just had this vision, and now I’m a bit scared, to be honest.” She gently squeezed his hands as he caught his breath. “My agent told me a few weeks ago that some clubs were interested in signing me this summer. I don’t have a whole lot of say in this stuff, but I can say no, so please remember that.” He squeezed her hands, meeting her eyes pleadingly, wanting to make sure she knew that no is an option. She just nodded, waiting for him to go on. “Most of the offers are from other level three teams, but one…”

“Oh my god, Lewie,” she started, her eyes widening. She couldn’t help the smile that crawled onto her face, having a good feeling about whatever it was he was about to say.

“One of them is from the Championship, and specifically, Middlesbrough.”

“Middlesbrough?!” She threw her hands around his neck, hugging him as best she could in the close confines of the car, but she didn’t care. Any offer from the Championship was huge, but Middlesbrough?! They were a good, solid team, and looked to be promoted to top-flight football in the next few years. She was so fucking proud of him, and he deserved all of this.

He held onto her, letting himself smile into the crook of her neck. He knew she’d be happy for him, but her happiness was still so fucking contagious that for a moment he forgot why he didn’t tell her sooner. “Babes, fuck, I’m so proud of you,” she whispered.

“I haven’t anything on paper yet, don’t get too excited,” he told her, smiling as she pulled away. “But they’re looking to restructure a bit heading into next season, and they want a ‘solid, leading number eight’”. Her smile just grew wider, and he was grateful for the night sky for hiding his small blush.

“Lewie, this is fucking great news! You deserve all of this,” she told him, the moonlight giving way to the sincerity in her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“It’s Middlesbrough, babes, not exactly a stone’s throw away from London. And I knew if I told you, you’d want me to take it. But you have your whole life here…your family, business, friends…I can’t let you move away from all that. And I’m not going anywhere without you.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “That’s why winning the match today was so important. We get promoted and I get to stay in London to keep building this life with you. Your dreams are here, and I’m not taking that away from you just so we can go chase mine. I just want you to be happy.”

She smiled sweetly at him, cupping his face in her hands. “Lewie Griffin, you are my dream. I can run a gym anywhere. I’ll arrange visits with friends and family, and we can spend your offseasons here during the summers. But there is absolutely no fucking way you’re saying no to this. I am happy wherever you are. London is not my home, you are. My dream is to wear your kit number to all of your matches until you’re a cranky, forty-year-old captain who can’t bring himself to quit. And when they finally make you, we can retire to our house on the beach with our five-plus dogs.”

He smiled at her sheepishly, leaning into her touch. “Babes, I feel like it’s easy to say that, but I’m gonna be pulling you out of London into a place where you don’t know anyone, away from your gym, not to mention how cold it gets there.” He looked sadly at her, his mind replaying all of the plans they had made when they thought he’d stay in London for a while longer. “I don’t want my job to dictate where you live, it’s not fair.”

“Lewie,” she sighed softly, still smiling at him. “You worry about me too much.” She softly caressed his cheek with her thumb. “I don’t care where I live, as long as you’re with me. I can handle the cold, I can make friends with the other WAGs, and Middlesbrough has miles of gorgeous coastline. Maybe we can invest in that house on the beach before we’re old and grey.”

He took her hands and held them to his forehead, shaking his head. “Why you gotta make everything sound so perfect and convincing?” She giggled. “Nah, I’m serious,” he laughed. “I’ve been really struggling with this, y’know.”

“You don’t have to hold this stuff in, babes, I promise it’s always scarier in your head,” she assured him, looking into his soft eyes. “It’s you and me forever, we’re a team of two.” She winked at him before adjusting herself. “Now tell me about this plan you had, because it seemed pretty fucking important, and Amelia was being weird as today.”

He contemplated for a moment, wondering if he should ask her now. He’s known he wanted to marry her as soon as she stepped out of the villa on the first day, so he really wasn’t sure what he was waiting for after two years. He just knew it had to be perfect - that’s what she deserved from him, always. And a parking lot was far from it.

He glanced at the backseat quickly, making sure his duffle bag was still in the car, where he had safely kept the ring for eight months now. The pitch would be locked up now, but his manager had given him a spare set of keys after he found him waiting outside at 4 am one day to start training early. Lewie decided then that he would still go through with his plan that night, but not in the parking lot of a pub called The Cow.

His parents would be here all weekend, they could still celebrate tomorrow.

“Buckle up,” he just told her, smiling cheekily.

“Lewie Griffin,” she mused, doing as she was told. “Full of surprises today.”

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