deep blue eyes // Antoine Griezmann

Chapter 24 - I Like Him

"Sage, who do you like?" Lloris asks, leaning over a bit to look at me. He is sitting on the couch, to my left.

I grin at him, then look around the room, my eyes meeting each of the guys', one-by-one, who are sitting in the room. I start with Lloris, and go around the room, ending with looking up at Griezmann, who I'm slouched against, and who is sitting on my right. I finally say, "It's someone in this room. Neymar knows, but he better not tell anyone."

He chuckles. "I won't, Sage, although I'm tempted."

I sit up raising my fist at him. "You'd better not!"

"I won't, I won't. Calm down," he chuckles. "But maybe we should all guess, except me, eh?"

"Sure," laugh Messi. "I think she likes Griezmann."

"Yeah, me too," nods Mbappe.

"Same," Giroud agrees.

I feel my face heat up, but I pull the redness in my cheeks off as anger as I say obviously lying, "Griezmann?!" It's hard to keep from giggling like a little middle school girl or something.

"Yeah," Henderson nods. "Griezmann." He laughs, continuing with, "You certainly don't like me."

"Yeah," I agree, leaning against the back of the couch, being mindful not to touch Antoine. "I agree with that." I stick my tongue out at him, and he rolls his eyes.

"Do you like me?" Foden asks. "Because I don't think it's Griezmann. I think it is me."

"No, Foden. I don't know who it is, maybe Mbappe, but it's certainly not you," Lloris says.

I can't help from giggling, because the thought of liking Foden or Mbappe to me is hilarious.

"She doesn't like me," Mbappe claims. "Or Foden."

"But look at her! She's wearing my hoodie!" Foden points at me.

I shrugs. "It's comfy, and I'm cold."

"Yeah, Foden, maybe you like her. Offering her your hoodie, and then you say that she likes you, when she obviously likes Grizou," Giroud comments with a teasing grin.

Antoine says, "I don't know why you all think she likes me, though. Like, why?"

I glance at Neymar, and I see that he's smirking like the idiot he is.

"Oh, I don't know, Griezmann," Henderson shrugs dramatically. "Maybe because she always looks at you? Maybe because she seems like she cares most about you? Because she always gets car rides places from you for some reason? Because she just happens to be sitting next to you, and earlier just happened to be leaning against you? To me, and to us, it's obvious."

"Sage, do you like me?" Griezmann asks, his eyes meeting mine.

"Obviously she's not going to say if you just ask!" Foden snorts.

"Yeah, I won't. Antoine."

"Plus she calls you by your first name, and that's not very common for you. If we're your friend, you're Grizou or sometimes even Grizzi, but never Antoine," Giroud says.

"I say his first name because he told me I could!" I say, slurring my words. "Besides, all this talk is stupid! Why don't we just keep playing Truth or Dare?"

"Yeah, good idea," Griezmann says quickly. "Sage, it's your turn."

I giggle with a grin, looking at Griezmann. I chug more beer, straight from the bottle by now. "Antoine, truth or dare?"

He shrugs, looking down at me with a grin. "Dare."

Without thinking, completely forgetting where I am, why I would do this, my sanity, and the very previously recent conversation, I say, "I dare you, Antoine, to take off your shirt, and don't put it back on for the rest of the night!" I giggle. "And don't take a shot for this one...!" I order at the end. I take another swig of my alcohol.

Henderson, Foden, Lloris, Messi, Neymar, Mbappe, and Giroud all burst out laughing, leaning over and wheezing.

"What's so funny? Huh?" I stand up to seem taller and more scary to them, but I stumble over, right into the wall, and all their faces become blurry. I start to feel very dizzy and unstable, so I try to stumble forward, back to my seat, but I can't. Just standing is way to much for me, and I have to keep my hand against the wall.

Griezmann sighs and stands up, pulling off his shirt and pulling it aside. I stare at his bare chest, willing my eyes to focus, just for a few seconds, because I can't miss this.

Gorgeous. Just absolutely gorgeous. So handsome. But most of all, he's hot. And I'm hot, just standing here. I'm sweating. I try to take my hand off the wall to take off Foden's hoodie, but I can't hold my footing. But I don't care. I just lean against the wall and say loudly and stupidly, "I can stand!" I'm now laughing my head off at this fact.

I think at least some of them are still laughing. I'm sure they're laughing with me, and not at me.

Antoine is one of the only ones who is not laughing- bless him- and he walks over to me, smiling. I stare at those blue eyes... Beautiful blue eyes. I can't look away...

"How many have you had, Sage?" he laughs lightly.

"I dunno," I say lazily. "Like, five."

"Jeez, when did she get all that in her behind my back?" Neymar snorts. "She's wasting my strong beer."

I don't know if Griezmann responds to him, or if anyone does, because I'm too busy staring at him. I can't look away. I just can't peel my eyes off of him.

"You're hot..." I sputter as he continues looking at me.

"C'mon, Sage," he says, putting an arm out for me to take. "Let's get you seated again."

But instead of just taking his arm, I take the opportunity to completely fall into him, pressing my cheek up against his bare chest. And, as expected, he holds me there, muttering, "'Kay, Sage you gotta stand up straight and lean on me in order to sit down again."

I sigh, standing there for a few more seconds, before straightening myself reluctantly, letting myself lean on him as he helps me back to the couch.

"You're hot, Antoine," I mutter again. Because he is. He's really hot.

"Right," he mutters gently. "Thank you. Just get settled back in, okay, Sage?"

I obey what he says and lean back, getting comfortable, then explain to him, unable to pronounce the words correctly, "I'm super hot because you're really hot. Like, you look hot. Like, perfect. You look perfect, like the man of my dreams, Antoine. But I'm the kind of hot, like the temperature kind of hot, because you do it. I feel temperature hot when you look, like, handsome kind of hot. You know?"

I'm not even paying attention to any one of the other guys' face, or what they're saying because all I can do is keep my eyes fixed on his perfect body- perfect muscles, perfect chest, perfect cheekbones, perfect hair, perfect jawline, perfect eyebrows, perfect lips, perfect nose, perfect smile. But most of all, perfect, blue, wonderful, deep eyes that could carry everything in the world in them, I think.

Oh my God, what am I thinking?

He nods slowly, and I think his cheeks might be pink, just like mine. "Yes, well, that's very nice, Sage. I really appreciate it. But if you're warm, why don't you take off your hoodie?"

I nod, muttering, "Good idea, Antoine," and I do so. I pull it off and toss it to Foden- or at least I try to. It lands on the floor, considerably far from Foden, but oh well. I don't really care. "That's better," I sigh, content, and settle down against the bare nook between Antoine's shoulder and chest. I can feel his bare skin against my cheek, and I don't care about anything in this moment, because I'm in heaven. Everything else has gone, and disappeared, because how can I pay attention to all that when I'm in heaven.

I think the guys keep playing, or talking, or maybe watching the movie, but I don't know, because I don't engage in it. I just feel as Antoine gently puts his arm around my back casually, and I listen to the deep tones of his voice when he talks in his chest.

And I fall asleep to sound and feeling of his steady heart beating in his chest.