~ Author's Note ~
Daily reminder that Antoine Griezmann is the most handsome man to ever live on planet Earth <3
Also, readers, I just wanted to do some self-advertising, as I do. I am writing a Football Imagines book, so I encourage you, if you would like, to read it, and even request, please, if you would like to or you have ideas! So if you're interested in requesting in that, you can go to the first chapter and read it, Request Information! Thanks so much, guys! You can go to my account page to find the fan fiction, or here is the link to it right here: https://www.wattpad.com/1341734616-football-imagines-requests-open-request
I don't even have enough energy left in me to feel annoyed at Neymar for flat out exposing my overhearing of their conversation. How can I, after all I've been through within the last twenty-four hours with Antoine Griezmann?
Then Antoine himself barges into the room, and stops when our eyes meet. Then he rushes over to kneel beside me, and he wraps his arms around me, but I push him away. "Sage..." he breathes in that beautiful way that only he says my name.
"I'm sorry, Antoine, but right now, I just can't."
"You can't what...?"
Neymar comes into the room and walks over, crouching down also in front of me.
"I can't be with you right now, Antoine," I say, and more tears come.
"I want to comfort y-"
"I don't want the cause of my pain to be the one comforting me!" I suddenly shout, and then let my head fall into Neymar's shoulder. I cry into him, not even daring to look back up at Antoine. I can't. I would if I could, I suppose, but I can't. I feel Neymar's arms wrap around me, but they are not the same as Antoine's. Not as protective. But also not as gentle, at the same time. They're caring, but not the same intense embraces as Antoine gives me. It is still a very protective hug, though.
"Dude, she's-" Antoine starts, but Neymar interrupts him with, "Man, just move on. Obviously, she can't be near you right now."
I feel Antoine's presence remain there for a few more seconds, before I finally hear him get up. And his footsteps fade away.
I keep crying, but finally, after I've calmed down a bit, Neymar lets go of me and leans away a bit, saying, "The other guys already left..."
"Oh..." I say in surprise. "Even Antoine?"
"Yeah, even him. He's broken. Things with you and him just aren't going right, huh?"
"Yeah, wise guy," I roll my eyes, wiping my red, puffy eyes. "Glad you were able to figure out at least that much."
"Sage," he says, getting serious. "What are you going to do?"
I shake my head. "I don't know. First off, we should get home. And I guess what I'll have to do is talk with Antoine."
"Will it be talking with him or yelling at him? Or crying at him?"
I sigh shakily. "No idea, Neymar."
"Hmm..." is all he says, and then stands up, holding his hand out to me to help me stand, but I ignore it and stand up myself. "Suit yourself," he mutters with a shrug, and then walks outside with me to his car. I get in on the passenger side, still feeling shaky and awful.
We start driving. "Sage, I'm sorry all that happened to you. It sucks."
"Darn right it does," I mutter, feeling sick. Awful. Nauseous, but not really. Like I want to throw up, but not sick at all.
"You should sleep," Neymar says, turning down his fashionable radio station choice.
"Good idea," I mutter, a single tear slipping down my cheek. "I think that is just about the only thing that will get me out of this hell of reality."
The last thing I hear before I fall sleep is Neymar saying, "I'm so sorry." The last thing I taste is something awful and bitter. The last thing I see is the world flying past me out the window. Running away, completely out of my grasp, kind of like how I feel right now. The last thing I smell is maybe Neymar's cologne. And the last thing I feel are the hot tears slipping down my cheeks.
And it turns out that going to sleep is the only freedom I can find from that.
The next day is a Monday. A school day. I avoid Antoine all day, which is very hard, because it is obvious he is trying to get in touch with me. But I don't know if I'm ready to talk to him. I don't know if I can be. But then again, if I don't do it at some point, will I ever be ready...?
At the end of the day, I'm quickly gathering my stuff at my locker, but Antoine catches me before I can do. His hand appears on my shoulder, and that feeling... I sigh. I like the feeling of him touching me, despite how much I wish I didn't. "Sage," he says. "I know you've been trying to avoid me all day. I'm sorry."
"You don't even know what you're sorry for," I sigh, resting my head against the cold metal of my locker. It is refreshing.
"I know..." he says. "You're right, Sage, like you always are."
I shake my head in disbelief. "We need to talk. I just don't want to."
"Everyone knows that what you need is more important than what you want. Let's go in the woods. We need to talk."
"About what?"
"You know better than I do. Everything, Sage. We need to quit pretending to be the beautiful basic perfect good-looking couple that we want to be and figure out what the hell is wrong so that we can become that couple."
I swallow, and these words to my ears feel like food for the stomach. I nod, and gather my things, before starting to walk down the hallway next to him, refusing to look up at him or anything else. I just stare at that annoyingly clean and bright tile floor of the school with those black specks, thinking about how I'm going to talk to Antoine about something I don't even know about.
YOU ARE READING
deep blue eyes // Antoine Griezmann
FanfictionThis is a story written in first person that takes place in high school. The main character is Sage, a high school girl who has a crush on a certain boy. Ranked #1 in the tag griezmann on 2/17/23. Ranked #69 in the tag madrid on 3/13/23. (Sorry guys...