Valentina stormed into the gym with fire in her eyes, her heeled boots clicking against the floor. Five years—five whole years—of flirting, lingering touches, late-night hangouts that felt too much like dates, and her muscle-bound idiot of a best friend still hadn’t figured it out.

And Valentina? She was done waiting.

Her target was mid-rep, lifting a frankly unreasonable amount of weight, sweat glistening over toned arms. She looked up, flashing that effortless, heart-stopping grin. "Hey, Val! Didn’t expect to see you here."

"Of course you didn’t," Valentina snapped, marching up to her. "Because despite all the time we spend together, despite the fact that I literally let you manhandle me whenever you want, you still don’t realize that I am hopelessly, ridiculously in love with you!"

Silence. Then—

"...Wait, what?"

Valentina groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "I'm going to need you to stop for one second because I find it so incredibly rude that you don't think I'm head over heels for your stupid ass. Are you a brick? Because you’re dense as fuck."

Her gym goddess stared, gears slowly turning. "...But you always flirt with everyone—"

"Not like this!" Valentina threw her hands in the air. "Do I let everyone carry me around like a princess? Do I let everyone give me their hoodies even though I have a literal closet full of them? Do I spend every Friday night laying on their ridiculously firm thighs while we watch dumb action movies and pretend we’re just friends?"

More silence. Then—softly—"Wait. You like me?"

Valentina gawked. "Oh my god."

Before she could launch into another frustrated rant, she was suddenly lifted, strong arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her flush against a warm, solid chest.

"...So, uh. Can I kiss you, or—?"

Valentina didn’t even let her finish the sentence.