deep blue eyes // Antoine Griezmann

Chapter 44 - Complete

There are lots and lots of bedrooms in this house, each with a large bed. As everyone is getting ready for bed and choosing who is going to be sleeping where, Antoine knocks on the bathroom door as I'm washing my face.

"It's Sage. Just washing my face. Come in?"

Antoine gently opens the door, putting a hand across my back gently, saying calmly, softly, "Where are you sleeping tonight? Which bed, I mean, will you be sleeping in for the week we're here?"

I shrug. "Dunno yet. Why?"

"Uhm," he clears his throat, his cheeks becoming pink, looking embarrassed. Finally he says, "I know there are enough beds to not do this, but I was wondering if you'd like to sleep in the same bed. Not, like, anything bad, just- Ugh, you know what I mean. All we would be doing is sleeping, of course, is what I'm getting at. Because, like, well-"

"I've got it, Antoine. You tend to start this rambling thing when you're embarrassed and excited and stuff. It's adorable. But you don't have to. I understand you're telling me we wouldn't have sex or anything. But you just were too embarrassed to say it," I grin at him as I watch his eyes widen in embarrassment that I would say the word. He's so silly. Like, what, is he afraid of the word sex? He's so funny. "I am not ready for sex, either, Antoine."

He looks at me a few more seconds, before muttering, "You're blunt."

"Why dance around something when there is no need to? It just makes you sound awkward." I shrug with a little smile. "Right?"

"Right. Am I awkward, Sage?" he asks, scratching behind his ear, leaning on the side of the sink as I dry my face with a washcloth.

"Oh, Antoine, don't worry," I smile, kissing his beautiful cheek. "If you're awkward, then I'm awkward, too. And if you're awkward, then it only makes you cuter."

"It feels weird for you to call me cute. Guys aren't usually cute, are they?"

I laugh out loud at this comment. "You'd have to be a girl to get it when we call guys 'cute'. Don't worry. It doesn't mean you are not freaking strong and protecting and hot, either. It is complicated to explain, but... You're just endearing. But don't worry, Antoine. Being cute isn't bad."

He smiles, and I think it is because he can't not smile. 

"Well, I'll see in the bedroom across the hall, yes?"

"Sounds good, Antoine," I smile. His name alone is like music to me. Everything in my gut is tight in the simple excitement of just being able to snuggle with him. Of just being about to be pressed against the warmth of his body. Of just having his strong arms around me. Of just being about to feel and hear the steady, never-ending beat of his heart somewhere in that strong chest of his.

As I brush my teeth and hair, I decide what one of the things I love about Antoine Griezmann is. I love that he has a tough skin but a soft heart. He is brave, and protective, and he usually doesn't show emotions if he doesn't need to. He shows strength on and off the pitch. He doesn't let people mess with him or the ones he cares about. He stands his ground on what he thinks. He'd beat someone up any day if they tried to hurt me. Or at least I think so. But he also has a soft heart. He has so much love for me, and treats me so delicately. So gently. With so much love, concern, and care. And he has emotions. And important emotions, too, at that. He cares and feels, but he also protects and stands strong.

I really, really like that about him. But that is only one of the many, many things I love about Antoine.

I go into our room. It is nice. Very nice. A warm light and warm wallpaper. I slip into bed next to him, where he is already laying, on his phone. I lean over his shoulder to see him texting someone. I ask him, whispering gently in his ear, "Who are you texting, Antoine?"

He, for whatever reason, feels the need to lean over and kiss my cheek, before responding with simply, "My brother."

"What is he asking about?"

"He just wants to know about how things have been today. I told him we got in safe and everything. Now he's asking about you."

"About what?" I question, leaning into him closer, feeling the warmth in his neck. I love that little spot between his neck and his shoulder.

"Just if you're good. He really likes you, ever since he met you. He'd be mad to know that I just told you that, though. But he thinks you're pretty, funny, and nice. Which you are, by the way. I tease him, saying he better not be thinking about stealing my girl. He calls me stupid."

I laugh a bit at this, just softly, because the quiet environment wouldn't like anything too loud, I reckon. I feel I can't be ruining that with some loud laugh. A soft giggle is good. "That's really cute, Antoine."

"Oh," he smiles softly back, putting his phone on the dresser, and leans towards me. "Stop it with all this 'cute' business already, will you?" I can tell he isn't really upset about it, though.

"Maybe, maybe not," I giggle, unable to not be happy when I'm around Antoine like this.

He looks at me, and those eyes shine in this dim lighting, blazing like a blue fire with so much warm. Hot. Gentle, though, and soft. Passionate. But most of all, just complete love.

Everything in my soul lights on fire because of those eyes.

And those lips. Those lips that have become so familiar to me connect with mine. Just holding against them, in a gentle, beautiful, enchanting, other-worldly kiss. So lovely. Oh, so, so lovely. Antoine is my lovely man that I will never let go of. As I hoped for, those arms of strength wrap around my smaller body, and we fit perfectly, like two pieces in a puzzle. Complete. We are complete together, like this. I feel as though we can never break apart. That this should never end.