Something About You

Stay

The final whistle blew, and the crowd erupted in cheers, but the noise barely registered in Layla’s mind. Her heart was racing for entirely different reasons. She stood by the edge of the pitch, eyes darting between the sea of players celebrating on the field. Aaron was nowhere to be seen.

A knot tightened in her chest. Where the hell is he?

She scanned the groups of players shaking hands, trading jerseys, and catching their breath, but Aaron wasn’t among them. Layla clenched her jaw, the rising panic catching her off guard. She knew she shouldn’t feel this way—Aaron was a grown man, and he’d been through worse on the field—but the fact that he’d disappeared without a word unsettled her more than she was willing to admit.

Her hand twitched, ready to approach one of the players. Maybe James, or someone else who might know where Aaron went. But as she took a step forward, doubt crept in. No. This is ridiculous. You’re not his babysitter.

She bit the inside of her cheek, holding herself back. Asking around would only make it obvious how much she cared—something she wasn’t ready to confront. Not yet.

Frustrated, she cursed under her breath. "Shit." And then, under her breath but with venom: "Where the f**k is that i***t?"

The words felt foreign on her tongue, but it was the only way to release the tension building inside her. She wasn’t used to caring this much—not like this.

After a moment, Layla exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers against her temple. You need to calm down. He’s probably fine. But the thought didn’t help much. If anything, it made her more frustrated.

Finally, with a shaky breath, she pulled out her phone. The screen lit up, and before she could second-guess herself, she tapped on Aaron’s i********: profile.

Her thumb hovered over the screen, mindlessly scrolling through his recent posts—pictures of matches, training sessions, and a couple of shots with fans. No hint of where he was now, though.

Then she noticed it: a tiny phone icon at the top of his profile.

Layla froze, her heart skipping a beat. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until her chest started to ache.

You could just call him, the thought whispered. It’s just a phone call. No big deal.

Except it felt like a very big deal.

Her thumb hovered over the icon, indecisive. Should she? Would it come off as desperate? What if he didn’t answer? Or worse—what if he did?

A sigh escaped her lips, and she leaned her weight on one foot, shifting awkwardly. This is stupid. It shouldn’t matter this much. And yet, here she was, standing on the edge of making a decision she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

The phone felt heavier in her hand, as if it knew how much hung in the balance of this one choice. Layla squeezed her eyes shut for a second, willing the anxious thoughts away.

It’s just Aaron. You’ve called him a hundred times before. What’s different now?

But she knew the answer, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Everything felt different now. Their history, their distance, the messy knot of emotions she had tried—and failed—to untangle.

Her thumb inched closer to the icon, nerves buzzing in her veins.

Layla stared at the phone screen for what felt like an eternity, her thumb hovering over the call icon. Her heart drummed against her ribcage, every nerve in her body on edge. What’s the worst that could happen? she thought. He doesn’t answer? So what?

But that gnawing pit of anxiety in her chest wouldn’t go away. What if something’s wrong?

She exhaled sharply and hit the call button before she could change her mind.

The phone rang once. Twice. And then—

“Hello?”

Layla's breath caught. The call had connected, but no sound followed. There was nothing—just the faint hum of static.

“Aaron?” she asked, her voice firmer than she expected. “Where the hell are you?”

She bit her lip, trying to mask the frustration bleeding into her tone. “You better not have just disappeared after the match like an i***t, because—”

“Hi. It’s Alaia.”

The unexpected voice on the other end silenced Layla instantly. Her grip on the phone tightened, and her stomach flipped.

Alaia? Of course, it was Alaia.

Layla’s pulse raced as a thousand questions fought to be voiced. But there was something... off about Alaia’s tone. It was subdued, lacking the usual cheer and brightness Layla had grown accustomed to whenever the girl talked about Aaron.

“Oh,” Layla muttered awkwardly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Uh—sorry, I didn’t know it was you.”

There was an uncomfortable pause on the line, the silence pressing down like a weight. Layla cleared her throat, summoning the courage she wasn’t sure she had.

“So, um... where is Aaron?” she asked, trying to sound casual, but her voice wavered slightly.

Alaia’s answer came without any preamble or explanation, her tone still eerily calm. “He’s at the hospital.”

Layla’s heart dropped. “Hospital? What do you mean—why?” she demanded, panic creeping into her voice despite herself.

“He’s fine,” Alaia replied, though the way she said it lacked conviction, like she was trying to convince herself. “He just... needed to get checked.”

Layla’s mind raced. “Which hospital?”

Alaia gave the address without hesitation, her voice still oddly flat. There was no playful teasing, no sign of the bubbly girl Layla had met before. Something felt... off. But Layla didn’t have time to dwell on it.

“Thanks,” she said shortly before hanging up.

Layla shoved her phone back into her pocket, her hands trembling slightly. Hospital. The word echoed in her mind, setting off waves of worry she couldn’t control. She needed to get there—now.

Her first instinct was to find Sarah. If anyone would help her figure things out, it was her. Layla headed toward the locker room, her heart thudding in her chest. She reached the door and pushed it open without thinking—

And froze.

There, tucked in the corner of the locker room, were Sarah and James—locked in a heated kiss.

Layla’s jaw dropped, disbelief washing over her like ice water. What the hell?

For a moment, she just stood there, stunned into silence. Then, frustration boiled over, and she couldn’t stop the words from spilling out.

“Are you two kidding me right now?” Layla snapped, her voice sharp and laced with irritation.

Sarah and James jumped apart like guilty teenagers caught sneaking out past curfew. Sarah blinked, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, while James scratched the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at Layla.

“What the hell is wrong with you two?” Layla continued, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “This is the locker room, not some romantic getaway! Do you seriously not know how to act in public?”

James opened his mouth to say something, but Layla shot him a glare so fierce that he quickly shut it again.

“Unbelievable,” Layla muttered under her breath, running a hand through her hair in exasperation. “I swear, some people just have no sense of place.”

Sarah looked like she wanted to disappear into the nearest locker. “Layla, we were just—”

“I don’t care what you were ‘just,’” Layla interrupted, her voice cutting. “I’ve got enough on my plate without having to walk in on this.”

The weight of her frustration and panic hung in the air, making the locker room feel stifling. Layla didn’t wait for either of them to respond—she turned sharply on her heel and stormed out of the room.

Her heart pounded as she made her way toward the parking lot, still reeling from the news about Aaron. Focus, Layla. Focus. She couldn’t waste another second on Sarah and James. Not when Aaron was in the hospital.

She pulled out her phone again, quickly hailing a cab. The sooner she got to the hospital, the better.

Layla barely made it a few steps down the hall before she heard the sound of hurried footsteps behind her. She didn’t stop, though—her mind was too preoccupied with the thought of Aaron, images of him hurt, alone, flashing through her head. Why a hospital? How serious is it? The questions buzzed like static, making her chest tight. Her heart raced, and she could feel anxiety clawing at the edges of her mind, growing louder with every unanswered second.

“Layla, wait!” James called, his voice echoing through the corridor. He jogged to catch up with her, his expression part curious, part amused, though the remnants of guilt from earlier lingered on his face.

Layla threw a glance over her shoulder but didn’t slow down. “What now, James?” she snapped, not in the mood to humor him.

James, ever unfazed by her frustration, matched her pace with an easy grin. “Where are you rushing off to like that?”

“To the hospital,” Layla muttered, brushing her hair out of her face. Her hands were still shaking, though she was trying hard to mask it. “Aaron’s there.”

James’s eyebrows lifted slightly, though not in shock—more in recognition, as if some theory of his had just been confirmed. “The hospital, huh?”

By now, Sarah had caught up with them, slightly breathless. “What’s going on? Hospital? Aaron?” she asked, her eyes flickering between Layla and James.

“He’s there. I don’t know why,” Layla said, frustration and worry blending into one knot of tension in her chest. She pulled out her phone and opened the ride-hailing app with trembling fingers, but before she could confirm a ride, James snatched the phone from her hands.

“Hey!” Layla protested, her voice rising, the anxiety now spilling over into irritation.

“Relax.” James pocketed her phone like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I’ll drive you.”

Layla glared at him, already regretting every moment she had to spend in his company today. “I didn’t ask for a ride.”

“No, but you need one.” James’s grin was infuriatingly smug. “And besides, I owe you one after...well, you know.”

Layla huffed, crossing her arms but not bothering to fight it any further. She knew he was right, and she didn’t have the luxury of waiting around for a cab. “Fine.”

Sarah, sensing the tension but clearly eager to help, chimed in. “I’m coming too. You shouldn’t go through this alone.”

Layla bit her lip, half-tempted to argue, but the truth was, having someone with her might help keep her grounded. Even if she didn’t want to admit it. She gave Sarah a small nod and followed them both to the parking lot.

...

The car ride was tense, the silence broken only by the occasional sound of traffic and the dull hum of the engine. Layla sat in the back seat, arms folded tight against her body, staring out the window. The lights of the city blurred as they sped through the streets, but no matter how fast they drove, it didn’t feel quick enough. What if something’s really wrong? What if I’m too late?

James glanced at her through the rearview mirror, his lips curving into a mischievous grin. “You’re really worked up over this, huh?” he teased, though his tone carried a trace of curiosity beneath the playfulness.

Layla shot him a glare. “He’s in the hospital, James. Of course, I’m worried.”

“Right,” James drawled, still smirking. “Worried... or something more?”

Layla felt her jaw tighten. “Don’t start with me.”

But James was relentless. “Come on, just admit it. You’re totally in love with him, aren’t you?”

Sarah let out a soft laugh from the passenger seat. “He has a point, Layla. You’ve been acting... a little different ever since you found out.”

Layla groaned, slumping back into the seat. “I care about him, okay? That’s all. I just... care.” She knew how weak the words sounded, but it was all she could manage without unraveling.

James grinned wider, sensing her discomfort. “Care a little too much, if you ask me.”

“James, seriously—”

“Alright, alright,” he said, holding up a hand in mock surrender. But just as Layla thought the conversation was over, he added, “You know, you might want to be careful with that caring thing, though.”

Layla frowned. “What are you talking about?”

James gave a lazy shrug, as if the words he was about to say weren’t a big deal. But they were—at least to Layla. “Aaron’s off the market.”

The words landed like a punch to her chest, knocking the air out of her lungs. She stared at James, her heart pounding. “What do you mean?” she whispered, though part of her didn’t want to hear the answer.

James glanced at her again, this time with a touch of sympathy beneath the teasing. “He’s getting engaged. To Alaia.”

The world seemed to tilt beneath Layla’s feet. Engaged? Her hands gripped the edge of the seat, her knuckles white.

Sarah gasped, whipping her head around to face James. “What? Aaron and Alaia are getting engaged?”

“Yeah,” James said with a shrug, like it was common knowledge. “They’ve been planning it for a while now, apparently.”

Layla’s throat tightened, and she forced herself to keep her expression neutral, though it took everything she had. “Good for them,” she muttered, her voice stiff.

But inside, everything was crumbling. A dull ache spread through her chest, sharp and unrelenting. It wasn’t just that Aaron was with someone else—it was that he was slipping away from her completely, becoming someone else’s to hold, someone else’s to love.

She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way her heart clenched painfully. Why does this hurt so much? she wondered bitterly. He’s not even mine.

Sarah, still stunned by the news, turned back toward the front. “Wow... I didn’t see that coming,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

Layla tried to focus on the words, on the conversation happening around her, but it felt like she was underwater—everything distant, muffled by the weight pressing down on her chest. She hated how vulnerable she felt, how exposed.

“You okay, Layla?” Sarah asked softly, glancing at her over her shoulder.

Layla gave a small nod, though her throat felt tight. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m fine.”

But she wasn’t. Not even close.

The rest of the car ride passed in silence, the only sound the hum of the engine and the distant chatter of the city outside. Layla stared out the window, willing the tears stinging her eyes to stay put. This isn’t about me, she reminded herself fiercely. I just want to make sure Aaron’s okay.

But deep down, she knew the truth: it wasn’t just about making sure he was okay. It was about the ache in her heart that wouldn’t go away—the part of her that had always held onto him, even when she knew she shouldn’t.

And now, knowing he was slipping away for good, she felt like she was losing something she hadn’t even realized she wanted.

When they finally pulled into the hospital parking lot, James killed the engine and looked back at her. “We’re here.”

Layla nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thanks.”

Sarah gave her a gentle smile as they climbed out of the car. “We’ll figure this out, okay?”

Layla forced a tight smile in return, though the weight in her chest remained. “Yeah,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

As they made their way toward the hospital entrance, Layla tried to steady her breathing, to push the ache down deep where it couldn’t hurt her anymore. But no matter how hard she tried, the truth lingered, sharp and undeniable.

Aaron wasn’t hers—and that hurt more than she’d ever expected.

Here’s an extended version of the hospital scene with deeper emotions, longer paragraphs, and more dialogue:

...

The hospital lobby was quiet except for the occasional shuffle of footsteps and the low murmur of conversations between nurses. Layla’s heart was racing, her palms clammy as they approached the reception desk. She was usually the one who held things together—steady and calm. But now, that composure was unraveling thread by thread. The only thing she knew for certain was that she needed to see Aaron. Nothing else mattered. Not the swirling thoughts about Alaia, not James’s teasing, and definitely not the ache in her chest that had been gnawing away at her ever since that conversation in the car.

“Hi,” James leaned casually on the counter, flashing the receptionist a charming grin. “We’re looking for Aaron Bekker. He was just brought in—can you tell us what room he’s in?”

The receptionist tapped a few keys on the keyboard, her eyes scanning the screen. “Aaron Bekker... Yes, he’s on the second floor. Room 204.”

“Thanks.” James gave a nod, and before Layla could even muster a thank-you, her feet were already moving. She took off down the hallway, her heart thudding loudly in her chest.

“Layla, wait up!” Sarah called after her, but Layla didn’t slow down. She didn’t care how fast she was walking or if the others were struggling to keep up. All that mattered was getting to that room and seeing Aaron. Until she saw him herself, a thousand worst-case scenarios were running through her head. What if he was unconscious? What if something really bad had happened?

She pressed the button for the elevator repeatedly, tapping her foot impatiently as if doing so would make it arrive faster. James and Sarah finally caught up with her, exchanging glances as they stood by her side.

“Geez, you could’ve warned us before sprinting off,” James muttered with a grin, but Layla barely acknowledged him, her focus solely on the numbers ticking down on the elevator panel.

When the doors slid open, Layla stepped inside without hesitation, her stomach tightening with nerves. Every second stretched out painfully, and when the elevator finally reached the second floor, she practically leaped out, heading straight for Room 204.

The door to the room was slightly ajar, and Layla pushed it open slowly, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes scanned the space.

Aaron was there—sitting up on the bed, his back resting against the headboard. His eyes were closed, his hair slightly disheveled, and the faintest shadow of exhaustion clung to his features. But to her immense relief, he looked... okay. There were no bandages, no tubes, nothing to suggest he was seriously hurt.

A wave of emotion hit her so hard that she froze for a second, overwhelmed by the sheer relief. He’s okay. He’s really okay.

For a brief moment, her mind screamed at her to keep it together, to maintain some semblance of control. Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t throw yourself at him. But the next second, another voice in her head—the louder, reckless one—drowned out all logic.

“Screw it,” Layla muttered under her breath, swearing at herself. Before she could second-guess her actions, she crossed the room in two quick strides and threw her arms around Aaron, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Aaron jerked slightly in surprise at first, his eyes snapping open, but he didn’t pull away. In fact, after a heartbeat, his arms came up, wrapping around her just as tightly. His hand pressed gently against the back of her head, holding her close as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“It’s okay,” Aaron murmured against her hair, his voice low and soothing. “I’m fine, B. I promise.”

Layla’s heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could feel it. She tightened her grip on him, her face buried against his shoulder. The warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart, calmed the storm that had been raging inside her. She didn’t want to let go—didn’t want to admit how much she’d missed this, how much she needed to know he was safe.

Aaron’s breath was a soft exhale against her temple. “I just got really tired. It’s nothing serious. They ran some tests, but I’m fine.”

Layla pulled back slightly, just enough to look at him. Her eyes searched his face, needing to see for herself that he really was okay. And he was—there was no pain in his expression, just a weariness that hinted at exhaustion.

“I thought—” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard, embarrassed by how emotional she sounded. “I thought it was worse.”

Aaron gave her a small, reassuring smile. “No need to worry about me so much.”

Layla let out a shaky breath, a half-laugh, half-sob escaping her lips. “Too late for that,” she muttered under her breath.

Aaron chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Come here.”

Before she could say anything else, he pulled her back into the hug, his arms tightening around her as if he needed the contact as much as she did. Layla melted into the embrace, her head resting against his shoulder, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt as if letting go would send him slipping through her fingers.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment, and the silence between them was strangely comforting. It was as if, for now, the world outside didn’t matter. As if, for these few stolen minutes, it was just them.

From the doorway, James and Sarah exchanged bewildered glances, both of them standing awkwardly as if they’d walked in on something they weren’t supposed to witness.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” James whispered, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Sarah nudged him with her elbow, equally surprised but trying to contain a smile. “I have no idea,” she whispered back. “But... wow.”

James tilted his head, studying the scene in front of him with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “Did they always have... whatever this is?” he murmured, gesturing vaguely toward the pair still locked in each other’s arms.

Sarah shook her head slowly, still watching Layla and Aaron in disbelief. “If they did, I never noticed.”

“Me neither,” James muttered under his breath. Then, with a playful smirk, he added, “Looks like someone owes me an apology.”

Sarah rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Don’t get cocky.”

Back in the room, Layla finally stirred, realizing how long they had been holding each other. She hesitated, her hands loosening their grip on Aaron’s shirt. “I should probably—”

But before she could pull away completely, Aaron’s arms tightened around her, holding her in place. “Stay,” he whispered softly, almost like a plea.

Layla froze, her breath catching in her throat. The way he held her, the way he whispered that single word—it made her chest ache in a way that was both painful and comforting at the same time.

She didn’t know what to make of it, didn’t know what it meant. All she knew was that, for once, she didn’t want to overthink it.

So she stayed.