rosie | griezmann

11

Antoine licked his lips as a sense of delight washed over him. He reached a hand out towards Rosie, not even knowing where he wished to land it. All he knew was this: she was his for the night.

He'd told her to dress casual, because it was just a regular team dinner; but even she made casual look so amazing. Her tight, red, deeply v-necked shirt was tucked into dark, tight high waisted jeans and her feet were safely secured in a pair of strappy heels; in case it was cold she had on a stylish long cardigan.

"You look so beautiful, Rosie." He finally spoke, his cheeks growing red. Rosie's eyes lit up as the compliment left his lips and she intertwined her fingers with his, a smile on her face.

"But look at you, Antoine. You look so handsome." Rosie didn't have to stand on her tiptoes this time to kiss the Frenchman, because she was wearing heels already.

Antoine smiled as her lips brushed against his and felt a sense of confidence wash through him. A compliment from Rosie was one of the greatest gifts one could ever receive, other than Rosie herself—and, as aforementioned, she was Antoine's—so no one would be receiving her any time soon.

Antoine bit his lip and squeezed Rosie's hand before whispering. "No, I'm nothing compared to you. Come on, we don't want to be late."

"Angel is asleep? I was hoping I could say goodnight." Rosie pouted a little, watching Antoine smile more.

"Yeah, my sister and her both fell asleep." He stated, biting his lip.

"Oh! I didn't know you had a sister." Rosie and Antoine finally began to head down to the car, and Antoine twisted his lips as he gazed longingly at her.

He blinked, then shrugged; remembering they were engaged in conversation and now wasn't the time to stare. "I didn't think it was important."

Rosie chuckled a little and then shrugged. "Well, it's nice to know. Are you guys close?"

Antoine shook his head slowly. "No, I'm not that close with my family anymore."

"So...do they..." Rosie paused, searching for the right words to say. "Do they know about the fact that you've been seeing—"

"No." Antoine cut her short. "I never told them."

"Oh," Was all Rosie said. Antoine pouted just the slightest. Was she disappointed?

The ride to wherever they were going was silent. It's not like Rosie was surprised, as Antoine was still shy and not the best conversation starter, but she was intrigued by France and found herself gazing out of the windows when she could've been giving herself opportunities to talk with the Frenchman.

So Antoine internally panicked, feeling as though she was ignoring him. It took an extreme toll on his confidence, what little he'd had this left. And just as he opened his mouth to finally say something, anything, just to have her voice comfort him in response; she gasped. "Antoine, watch out!"

Antoine pressed the breaks quickly in order to avoid hitting a lady with a stroller as she ventured across the crosswalk and listened as his tires screeched against the pavement. Rosie let out another breath of worry, while Antoine let out a breath as well and then waited for the woman to slowly walk in front of his car before he continued to drive. Now, he truly felt like an idiot.

"Antoine, what are you thinking about?" Rosie inquired, a frown on her face.

Antoine clenched the steering wheel. "Nothing."

"Antoine, don't be like that." Rosie pouted more.

"Like what? I told you, I'm not thinking about anything." Antoine lied, as they arrived at the restaurant that their team had rented out. "We're here."

"I'm not getting out of this car until you stop acting odd and speak with me. It's concerning."

"Rosie," Antoine turned to face her. "You're acting like my mother."

Rosie didn't know whether or not she should take offense to it, but she did. After all, Antoine had seldom ever mentioned the woman to give birth to him, but when he did it was in vain. She was too nosy, too clingy. He didn't like it.

Rosie didn't respond. Had she really just gotten into an argument with Antoine? Silently, she rolled her eyes and lay her head back on the seat. "Speak when you're ready."

Antoine just sighed. "Can we please go inside?" Rosie gave him a side eye. He opened the door. "Okay, fine." He lifted his hands up a little. "I'll go inside, and you can come in when you're ready."

Rosie practically scoffed, but she knew better. "Antoine, you're the one who almost killed someone because you—"

"Are you mad at me?" Antoine interrupted, raising his eyebrows. Rosie ran a hand through her hair as her voice went back to being its neutral, buttery smooth tone.

"No, Antoine. Never."

Antoine's eyes softened, as did hers. But then they were back to being a bottomless ocean blue. "Are you sure?"

"Why would I have any reason to be upset with you?"

Antoine lifted his hands up. "Because I'm me, for Christ's sake."

Rosie wasn't sure what he meant. "And what makes you think there's something wrong with who you are?" She inquired, placing her fingers on his cheek and leaning towards him.

Antoine blushed. Rosie could feel the warmth of his cheeks under her fingertips, which was how she knew; but she kept her eyes on his before Antoine acted on impulse and kissed her. It was a chaste kiss, to say the least; nothing too dramatic or passionate. "I don't know," Was all he could say. He just felt like there was something wrong with him, something that wasn't common or a good flaw.

But Rosie smiled, ruffled his classily combed hair, and opened her door. Antoine gasped, rushed out of the car and to her side, then closed the door before opening it again for her. It almost seemed as though the ex-therapist would die from her laughter in response to his gesture, and even Antoine chuckled as they took each other's hands and she got out of the passenger side of the car.

Antoine was going to tell her to just ignore the photographers, because they'd always annoyed him; but instead she did the complete opposite, hugging Antoine to her in order to pose for a photo before they entered the venue. "If I'm going to be seen with someone like you, Antoine, then I have no choice but to show it off." She stated, momentarily acting as though half  of Antoine's teammates weren't excitedly cheering his name upon his arrival.

Antoine blushed for the millionth time that night and kissed her cheek before Rosie spotted a tall and handsome man making their way over; of course, she didn't really know who he was but Antoine seemed to get excited by his presence.

"Olivier!" He spoke, and that was as much as Rosie could understand before Antoine and Olivier began to speak french. She recognized his name, because Antoine was constantly mentioning it; Olivier and Antoine were best friends.

Rosie blankly observed the tall man before his eyes briskly connected with hers and she didn't stop staring, nor did she blush for getting caught as he stuck his hand out and spoke in poor English. It was okay, Rosie thought, because her English wasn't the best either. As she and Olivier introduced themselves to one another, and then Antoine and him proceeded to talk in their foreign language, Rosie sighed; it was going to be a long night.