rosie | griezmann

12

Rosie's body was like smooth silk on Antoine's skin as he woke up to the feeling of her warm flesh in his arms, something he still had yet to get used to.

There was no talking between the two of them as she peeked her eyes open and smiled at Antoine, saying good morning with her chocolate orbs as he smiled back and said the same with his azure ones.

Rosie propped herself in her elbows and Antoine did the same as they gazed out of his hotel window, they were in Paris and their view of the Eiffel was perfect. "This feels so cliché." Rosie finally spoke, tittering a little. "But the view is so beautiful."

Antoine kissed the skin of her shoulder, sending sparks throughout her entire body. "Yeah, it is."

"Did you sleep well?" Rosie turned to face the Frenchman with the same coy smile as she tucked her hair behind her ear, her bottom lip getting caught underneath her top row of teeth.

Antoine smirked a little; obviously sleep had only been a minor part of their evening and they both knew so. "Like a baby. And you?"

Rosie smiled and placed her hand on Antoine's cheek. Antoine had noticed that she was much more touchy than she was wordy—he wasn't complaining—but he found it ironic; she'd healed him so much with her words.

"So, I'm taking that as a yes." Antoine chuckled and intertwined his fingers with Rosie's hair, running his hand through the brown strands before speaking. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Where are you from?"

Rosie rose her eyebrows. "Berlin."

"Wow." Antoine's mouth slid open a little. "Wow, really?"

Rosie chuckled. "Yeah! I mean, it's not that interesting. I always hated it. I know, I don't look like I'm from there."

"You hated it? Why?"

Rosie shrugged, picking at the sheets as she stared down at her fingers. "Didn't have the best childhood, that's all."

Antoine lay on his arm while Rosie still remained propped up on hers, but they still faced each other nonetheless. "You know that you can always talk to me...I'm nowhere as amazing as you when it comes to comforting, but I'll try."

Rosie smiled and sat up, keeping her chest covered with the thin white sheet she lay under by holding it to her collarbone with one hand. Antoine closed his eyes and broke into smile. "You know I've seen you, right?"

"Yeah, but still." She poked his nose. "I like to keep it classy, Anto."

Antoine chuckled and gazed at the ceiling as Rosie pulled on a slip and then disappeared from the bedroom, re-entering five minutes later with Angel in her arms. It was a sight to see—Rosie and her beautiful, smooth skin; her long, wavy brown hair resting on her shoulders—gingerly holding Angel, with her auburn colored hair falling before her big blue eyes along with the tan skin she'd gotten from Erika.

"Say good morning, papa." Whispered Rosie, before Angel's eyes lit up and she spoke.

"Buenos días, papa."

"Hola, princesa." Antoine sat up and held his arms out, watching as Rosie placed his daughter in them and then kissed his lips for the millionth time that morning. She sighed and rolled on her back as Antoine placed Angel in between the two; then spoke. "So, what should we do today?"

Angel's eyes dazzled as she clapped her small hands together. "Ice cream."

"Ice cream? That's all?" Antoine chuckled, gazing down at the girl. "We could explore the whole city."

Angel pouted. "But not the world?"

"The world, too."

She was back to smiling. "Ice cream, next we explore the world." She spoke, in her broken Spanish. Rosie was enchanted as the one year old continued to smile, showcasing all of her baby teeth. "When do we go?"

Rosie gazed up at Antoine. Antoine shrugged. "How about now?"

"Sí," Rosie responded. She then glanced back down at Angel, grinning more. "Operation ice cream and explore the world begins now."