rosie | griezmann

14

Rosie squealed as she wrapped her manicured fingers around the steering wheel of Antoine's expensive Aston Martin; turning her head to face him with a blissful smile tainting her lips. "God, I'm so excited! I've never driven a car this fancy."

"It's nothing special."

Rosie gave him an eyebrow raise. "This car costs more than what I'm worth."

"Nothing costs more than what you're worth."

Rosie smiled quietly before she turned on the car and drove off. "You're the sweetest thing I've ever known, Antoine."

Antoine blushed and looked out of the window of the passenger seat, but watching the cars drive by couldn't compare to the goddess that sat next to him. So, he turned his head back to face her, a small smile on his lips. "Thank you."

Rosie snuck another glance at him. "God, I love it when you smile."

Antoine blushed even more. He felt guilty, allowing her to smother him with so many compliments; he felt like it should've been the other way around. After all, she was Rosie, a golden goddess. And he was Antoine, an emotional wreck.

Antoine eyes traveled down Rosie's beautiful body, lower and lower, until they reached her chest. His eyeballs practically popped out of their sockets at the amount of cleavage her shirt unintentionally bore, and while she probably didn't intentionally mean to show so much cleavage, he definitely wasn't going to do anything to change it as he moved his hands over his lap.

Then his eyes traveled further, to the hem of her high waisted shorts, over the curvature of her arse before they focused on her smooth, golden thighs which were almost exposed in their entirety, due to the fact that her legs were bent. It was hot outside—ergo she wore a crocheted halter top and light denim high waisted cutoff shorts—as they were driving all the way to Barcelona for a weekend on the coast.

"Give me a hand?"

"Huh?"

"Can you pull my shirt up for me?"

Antoine blushed. "Are you sure?"

"Antoine." Rosie's tone was almost scolding. "You've touched them before, and you know it. I'm only asking you to pull my shirt up."

"Alright, alright." Antoine smiled slyly and leant forward, his hand groping one of her breasts accidentally-on-purpose before he gasped falsely. "Oops." 

"Cheeky thing, you."

Antoine grinned. "I'm afraid that, after examining this article of clothing, the only way you can fix the cleavage is to untie the straps and then..." Antoine pouted a little. Women's clothes are so confusing, he thought. "Tie them back together?"

Rosie smiled, pulling her hair into a ponytail after coming to a halt at the stoplight. "Go on."

"You want me to do that, too?"

"You're right. I'm asking too much of you. We're almost there, anyways."

Antoine had been driving for the majority of their road trip—he and Rosie had only switched once she insisted he take a break. "No!" Antoine quickly brushed his fingers against Rosie's neck before untying the strap to her shirt, watching as the entire thing fell down and she was left in her stringy black bikini top.

"Great job, Antoine." Rosie sent the Frenchman a small smirk as she sarcastically spoke.

"The heart wants what it wants."

"If your heart wants me to pull over so that we can get it on in the back, I'm totally down with it."

Antoine's lips parted and his heartbeat sped before he realized that Rosie was kidding. He quickly chuckled, praying that he didn't wait too long to do so. "How much longer until we get there, do you think?"

"Fifteen minutes."

Antoine nodded. They drove for another half an hour due to traffic before arriving in Barcelona; it was so hot outside that they decided to go to the beach before they checked in to their hotel.

Rosie and Antoine were quick to find a more deserted end of the beach before they both got in the water, equally relieved to be cooled down after a six hour spell in the car. "I'm actually a terrible swimmer." Rosie spoke, her cheeks red as she waded over to Antoine. "Like, I refuse to go where my feet can't touch the bottom."

Antoine chuckled. "Well, that makes two of us. For the second part, anyways." He wriggled his eyebrows. "I'm actually a pretty excellent swimmer."

"Oh yeah? Antoine Griezmann, you're quite the athlete."

"I thought you knew."

Rosie smiled and latched her arms around the Frenchman's neck, tilting her head before she crashed her lips onto his in a searing, fervent kiss. And, suddenly, the water was no cooler than the shining sun, and even the shining sun couldn't compare to the way Rosie glowed in Antoine's eyes.

"I love you." He blurted, quietly.

Rosie's lips parted. She pressed her body against his even more, her eyes fluttering closed before she chuckled softly. "I know you do, Antoine."

"Y-you do?"

"Of course." Rosie opened her eyes and bit her lip, searching Antoine's blue orbs. "I just had to hear you say it. I knew you would say it when it felt right."

Antoine blushed. "So...do you—"

"Do I love you?"

Antoine nodded. Rosie crept her fingers down Antoine's back. "If you give me your hand, Antoine, I may never let it go. And if you give me your heart, I might never give it back. If you give me all of you, I might not need anything else." Rosie smiled adorably up at the Frenchman. "Just give me your everything, and of course I'll love you for it."