rosie | griezmann

16

His heart beats slow, quietly, like soft fingers on gentle beginning chords, like he's finally starting to breath. Alive, alive, alive. It was all Antoine felt as he watched Rosie vividly tell Angel a story; they were out eating lunch in the beautiful city of Madrid.

Alas, back to his heart. It resided inside his chest this time, not hammering inside his throat, not threatening to jump out if he were to open his mouth. It was still so unfamiliar to feel so calm, but that didn't mean it was wrong. He knew it was supposed to be fluttering, but this hungry heart of his was far too heavy for that. It was finally getting used to the idea and the fact that Primrose called Rosie was his.

His poor heart bled from it's core, begging him to follow it with the strength it sent through his veins. It knew something that no other part of him, not even his brain, did. It was love, a sense of now, the present, that would stretch on and into forever as he stared at his goddess-like girlfriend and his gorgeous baby girl.

Rosie tucked her curly hair behind her ear and poked Angel's nose, laughing and causing the one year old to laugh as well. Antoine felt free for the first time, like he was standing under the sun. And this was it, the stars and the planets and the things and the circumstances had aligned to create this very moment. And, for this immeasurable amount of time, it all belonged to him.

"What do you think, Antoine?" Rosie suddenly spoke, interrupting his poetic train of thought.

Antoine blushed. "Hmm?"

"Angie wants to go to the beach. She says she's mad that we didn't take her the other day."

Antoine smiled a little and then glanced down at Angel, who's fragile features were set in a baby-like pout. The father reached forward and poked her cute nose, speaking. "I'm sorry, chérie. You were with your mother that weekend."

Angel swatted his hand away, letting out a whine. "I don't like her house!"

Neither do I, thought Antoine. "Okay, okay." He whispered, softly, as people around were looking at the fussy one year old and her father with small glances of sympathy. "As soon as I have a break, we'll go to any beach in the world. And you can choose which one."

Fortunately, Christmas was in two weeks; Angel wouldn't have to wait that long for her vacation. The only issue, Antoine knew, was the fact that Erika definitely wouldn't let Antoine have custody over their daughter without a fight.

Angel's cobalt eyes shined, something so enviously bright and beautiful that Rosie found herself jealous of Antoine's daughter. Only because she was as beautiful as her father. She felt like the odd one out, the incongruous factor, plain old, average Rosie.

But that wasn't truly the case. Antoine couldn't stop staring at Rosie, be it that they were out for lunch like this or laying in bed together while she payed more attention to a book she was reading on philosophy or some scholarly subject than she was him. And he was jealous of those books, which held so much knowledge, especially because Antoine hadn't even completed high school and wouldn't consider himself the to be the brightest.

"Alright, I read to her and everything." Spoke Rosie, later that night, as she entered Antoine's bedroom and plopped next to him. "But, you know, she's not going to fall asleep until her father kisses her goodnight--are you reading my book?"

Antoine sat down Beyond Good and Evil and grinned. "I'm trying to. Unfortunately, I can only comprehend so much of it. This philosophy stuff confuses me. It was my worst class in school."

Rosie hugged the book to her chest. "I've been reading it since my first year of college. Trust me—"

"Papa, come on!" Angel called from her bedroom, leaving Antoine to grin a little before he stole a kiss off of his girlfriend's lips and practically ran to Angel's room. She lay in her small bed, her entire body hid under her bright pink and polka-dotted duvet with the exception of her small, pretty face. In her arms she held her teddy bear, which she wasn't willing to let go, even if it meant hugging her father.

So Antoine had to bear-hug her, causing Angel to laugh as he kissed her forehead and then she stole her perfect opportunity to speak. "Can you have another baby?"

Antoine froze. "Hmm?"

"Someone for me to play with?"

Antoine stared into Angel's big, blue, pleading eyes. "Angel...you know that your mother and I don't—"

"With Rosie." Angel spoke, with a duh tone. Antoine said he would think about it, as he didn't want his daughter to go to sleep unhappy. But in reality, it was far too soon. The two had just started saying I love you to one another, so how odd would it sound, asking if she wanted to have a baby?

Antoine entered the bedroom to find Rosie on her phone and speaking German with a wide smile on her face. If she was smiling like this with who Antoine prayed was just a friend, then he wondered what she looked like when she was on the phone with him. But he couldn't get ahead of himself. Perhaps he didn't make Rosie as happy as she made him.

Rosie presumably bid her friend farewell before she set her phone on her nightstand and stared at Antoine. "What's on your mind?"

Antoine blinked. There was no use in lying. Besides, Rosie was a therapist. So she had patience. And she remembered things. If Antoine didn't tell her now, she'd either sit silently until he did, or she would bring it up another time.

He moved next to her. "Who were you on the phone with?"

"An old friend."

"Oh." Antoine sighed, pushing strands of her hair out of her eyes. "Well, Angel was just saying that she wanted a little brother or sister. I think she's rather lonely, having to go between Erika and I. I told her I would think about it, but of course I'm just going to have to say it won't work out."

Rosie propped herself up on one elbow, a small smile on her face. "How long have we been together?"

"Together, together? Or sleeping together?"

"Sleeping together."

"Three months and twenty-eight days."

Immediately, Antoine blushed. Rosie smiled. "But who's counting, right?"

Antoine let out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. "Riiight."

"Anyways, we've been together for around four months and not once did you use protection. And you certainly don't pull out of me. So what I'm saying is that if I could get pregnant, I would certainly be pregnant by now." Rosie's caramel colored eyes glinted with a hint of sorrow as she glanced into Antoine's orbs and then up into the ceiling as she spoke again, causing the Frenchman to understand what she was trying to say. "But alas, Antoine, as much as I want to—I can't."