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𝑾𝒉𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒎𝒆?
Reece's Perspective
I stare at my room after I finish straightening it up and setting up the bed for Antoine. I stare at the old peeling black and white striped wallpaper, my old mirror, and the plant I've been watering and taking care of for years.
I hear Antoine walk out of the bathroom in the hallway, so I exit my bedroom to meet him in the hall, and freeze when I see his bare chest. It's brawny, smooth, and he's a bit slim and...
When I always would imagine having the most handsome dream boyfriend, Antoine's chest was his chest, and I didn't even know it. Until now, of course.
And I blush, staring at him.
Yes, I, Reece Mallory Abbott, the girl who will never, ever, ever love Antoine Griezmann, who, in fact, has always hated his guts, who takes pride in being the only girl in the school not completely in love with him, just blushed at his bare chest. "You're... not gonna wear a shirt?" I blurt, sounding a little squeaky.
He looks up from the floor, running his hand through his hair, giving me a side eye, and-
Whoa, what the hell?
That was so...
Ugh, I don't wanna say it, but...
That was so hot.
Why am I thinking of Antoine as hot?!
No!
That's not how it should be!
"I don't like sleeping with a shirt on. I'm not used to it, and I get sweaty and uncomfortable. Is that going to be a problem?" He says it in such a low voice, and I don't know how or why, just now, so randomly, he's putting this strange shaky feeling in my knees.
"N- no, Antoine. Not at all!"
"Antoine?" he asks with a smirk. "Who's Antoine?"
Oh my God, why is my heart pounding so hard in my chest at that smirk? I've always found that smirk so obnoxious. Why, all the sudden, is it attractive...?
"Oh, sorry," I clear my throat, "Pierre."
"No problem," he mutters, glancing away. "So, should we get to your room, then?"
"Yeah," I smile nervously, and mutter, "it's this way."
He follows me, and goes into my bedroom with me. He glances around, and I hope he doesn't judge the black and white bed sheets, the wobbly white painted wooden desk, and the metal stool.
He stands there for a moment in the doorway, before walking in, plopping down on the air mattress, facing away from my bed. I close the door behind me before climbing into bed.
Then the automatic night light turns on, and I forgot to unplug that. Crap. I feel so embarrassed... Now he knows I sleep with a night light... Crappp...
He only shifts, still sitting on the back of the bed, and I watch the muscles move in his back when he does this, and I feel breath catch in my throat.
He suddenly turns around, catching me staring at him when his blue eyes meet mine. They shine nicely in the dim lighting, with only my nightlight. I look away quickly, and I'm sure I'm turning red again. What is wrong with me?
He doesn't seem to notice any of it, and only smiles softly, saying, "Thought you said your mama doesn't want the door closed."
"Oh, yeah," I nervously laugh. "Right... I guess I just shut it because I'm used to it like that... Sorry, I can open i-"
"No, if you don't want to, it's fine. Your mama won't even know, huh? You'll wake up before her?"
I smile. "Sure, yeah."
"It's okay. I get used to things, too, and don't like having to change it. And don't worry," he says, letting out a little chuckle, "my plan isn't to get your pregnant."
Before, when we were in the car, I'd just laugh at this and lay down. All the sudden, though, now, the laughter is nervous, and I shift as I'm scarlet in the face. Something happened; something shifted in me at some point, and that shift happened really suddenly, and really fast. "Right," I say, trying to sound casual.
"Well," he says suddenly. "Night, then, Reece Mallory." I watch as he slips in underneath the blanket, all snuggled up.
I lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep, despite how tired I am. With such a formerly popular boy on my floor, sleeping. With such a rude, mean, awful boy. Or so I thought. On my floor. Wow. Such a... okay, I'll admit it. Such a hot, handsome, good-looking, athletic, talented boy laying asleep, so close to me.
My God, it's insane.
I shift, wishing I could just go to sleep.
Finally, after time that I can't take track of, I suddenly flinch when Antoine's voice whispers, "Hey, Reece Mallory, are you awake?"
"I thought you were asleep," I whisper back, surprised at this.
"That's funny. I was just resting."
"Oh..." is all I say. "Well, what is it?"
He sighs softly, and suddenly, I enjoy listening to his voice, and I'm scared about these strange emotions I'm experiencing. And I'm positive it wouldn't be healthy to like him.
Like him?! Who ever said anything about liking him?!
He mutters, "Reece Mallory, thank you so f***ing much."
I freeze where I'm laying. I'm laying facing him, but he's not facing me. Just that muscular back of his is. I smile at this. Not his muscular back. I mean, that, too. But I smile because of his soft, gentle, beautiful-sounding thank you. I cover my mouth, so that if he turns me around, he doesn't see my smile. I inhale deeply, before saying on my exhale, "Antoine f***ing Griezmann, you're so welcome."
Suddenly, he rolls over, and our eyes meet in the warm night light. There's this little, tiny smile on his face, and even though he's smiled a few times since I found him the rain, this one surprises me. Hits me.
Oh no.
I know what this smile is.
It's like an arrow to the heart.
Just those words in my thoughts send chills down my spine and heat waves into my head.
