Ever seen that meme that says “Me and the bad bitch I pulled by being ___”? That was exactly what was happening here. Except the blank needed to be filled in with something very specific. Daisy Carter and the Babyface Wrestler She Pulled By Being Autistic. Somehow, in some completely improbable way, Daisy had managed to capture the attention of one of the most beloved stars in TUFF. The warm-smiled, crowd-loved, devastatingly athletic woman known as Aurora Quinn. And Daisy had absolutely no idea. Aurora had been interested from the beginning. Despite the confidence she carried into the ring, she wasn’t cold or detached outside of it. She’d noticed Daisy that first day—quietly brilliant, funny in a dry way that snuck up on people, kind in a way that felt unforced—and had been completely gone. The problem was that Daisy was autistic. Which wasn’t a problem, actually. Aurora didn’t care about that at all. But it did mean that all of Aurora’s carefully chosen, gently obvious hints were going completely unnoticed. And Aurora had tried. Oh, she’d tried. She’d brushed her hand against Daisy’s in passing—slow, deliberate, the kind of touch meant to linger. Daisy had simply adjusted the notebook she was holding and continued explaining her point without missing a beat. Aurora had made a habit of mentioning how single she was whenever Daisy was around. Had practically waved a metaphorical sign that read “I AM INTERESTED.” Daisy had nodded thoughtfully and said something about how dating sounded complicated and wasn’t Aurora busy enough already? She’d invited Daisy to sit with her during downtime. Had leaned in close—close enough to be unmistakable, at least to Aurora. She laughed at Daisy’s jokes, complimented her outfits, found reasons to keep her nearby.Nothing. Not even a flicker of recognition. So Aurora decided that subtlety was clearly not working. And that meant she’d have to be direct. Very direct. It was a quiet afternoon backstage. Most of the roster was out training or doing media, and Aurora had positioned herself near the break area because she knew Daisy’s routine—knew that Daisy always appeared around the same time, looking for a snack and a moment of quiet. Aurora leaned against the counter, arms folded, trying to look relaxed and confident and not at all like she’d rehearsed this conversation in her head more than once. Aurora stepped forward and gently closed the fridge door before Daisy could open it fully, careful not to crowd her. “Okay,” Aurora said, voice steady but honest, “here’s the thing.” She met Daisy’s eyes, no teasing this time. “I like you. A lot.”