thanks kayla.

The arena was empty but for one girl, looking smaller than ever as she stood on the top step of the podium. He was surprised to see her looking so small after leading her team to decimate the competition and impressive almost-clean sweep of medals. She knew he was there before his voice carried across the stadium, washing over her like honey.

"I thought I'd find you here."

She lifted her shoulders in a deep, even breath as he hopped up onto the silver step beside her.

"Are you okay, Payson?"

"This is everything I've ever wanted," she began, her voice a strangled whisper. "This is all I've wanted since I was four years old. Two years ago I thought it was over, but today I'm in London..."

"But…?" he prompted. His hand found hers and he linked their fingers, a silent gesture of the support they always had for one another.

"I'm not sure I'm ready for it to be over." She turned to face him for the first time, red-rimmed eyes filling with tears.

His heart broke a little. He tugged lightly on her hand and they sat on their respective steps.

"It doesn't have to be," he said, voice full of promise.

"Sasha, I'm eighteen in three weeks," she began with a light scoff, a bitter edge to her tone. "By the time Rio rolls around, I'll be twenty-two."

"So coach," he said simply. To him, it was the obvious solution.

"Sasha," she started, resigned, before her tone changed. "Do you really think I could?"

"Payson Keeler, you are a national and world champion, five-time Olympic gold medallist and you have been captain of your team since you were eleven years old. Not only will people be falling all over themselves to train with you but you will be the most uniquely qualified coach this sport has ever seen," he told her in a whisper, head lowered to her ear.

Her eyes told him she was still sceptical and he squeezed her fingers. "Payson, I've seen you coaching your teammates before going out there to compete, yourself. I know the way you watch gymnastics. I would have killed for a coach like you."

"But I'll never see you again," Payson looked away.

"Coach at the Rock," he answered. It wasn't a question and it was barely a suggestion; his tone had a finality about it she had heard only a handful of times before. She scoffed lightly.

"I've already had three calls from clubs to coach."

"But you turned them all down," Sasha answered with a smile, eyes twinkling lightly. She responded with a half-smile of her own, amazed at how well he knew her.

"How did you know…?"

"Call it intuition," he told her. Their eyes locked and for a moment, they fell silent.

"Sasha, I—" Payson broke the silence and looked down at her hands, fingers intertwined with his. She sounded guilty and her eyes had taken on the same storm they often did when she was upset.

"Payson…" he warned.

"No, I need to. That night when I kissed you…" she trailed off. He held his breath, not entirely sure where the conversation was going and not entirely sure he wanted to hear it. She saw the storm in her own eyes reflected in his. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She moved to stand up. Hands still tangled together, Sasha squeezed her fingers and pulled her back to him.

"I'm not," he answered in a hoarse whisper.

"I wanted to kiss you," Payson insisted. Her eyes began to fill with tears again.

"I wanted to kiss you," Sasha countered, turning his body to face her fully. Payson gasped.

"You… you wanted to kiss me?"

"Oh, Payson," he said with a light chuckle. "I have wanted to kiss you so many times."

Emboldened by his revelation, the corners of Payson's mouth turned up into a small smile. "I've been in love with you since I saw you on the rings in Sydney," she admittedly brazenly.

All thoughts of propriety left his head as he kissed her soundly, lips melting into lips melting into open mouths and duelling tongues. She was no longer his gymnast and he was no longer her coach. He had fought his feelings for her since arriving at The Rock, chastising himself regularly for falling in love with a teenage girl.

They broke apart for air. Sasha's free hand rested on Payson's face and he wiped away tears with the pad of his calloused thumb.

"Please don't cry, love," he whispered. This time, Payson kissed him and it was every bit as electrifying as the last time she had done it. The hand on her face moved around to tangle itself in her hair, releasing it from her signature competition bun and twisting it around his fingers.

"I have always loved you," he whispered as they broke apart a second time, foreheads resting together. Payson smiled. This was better than all the gold medals in London.