rosie | griezmann

17

Antoine, Rosie, and Angel had planned to go to the southern French Alps. Oddly enough, it didn't border the sea like Angel wished, but there was a gorgeous lake for swimming that was likely much more sanitary and safe than the ocean, especially for a one year old. And it was more convenient, as Antoine had bought a cabin out there the moment he got his first real paycheck—one with more than six figures, of course.

It had previously been his safe haven, somewhere he went to be alone, to run away from all of the issues that plagued his life. The issues he'd eventually forced himself to see a therapist about, which was the best decision he'd made in a long time.

Olivier, Jen, and Jade had joined them, renting out the twin cabin next door. They would be there for a week, and their families would meet them on Christmas Eve.

Rosie had just finished reading a story to Angel and Jade (Jade was keen on the therapist from the start, something that nerved Jennifer) and kissed them both goodnight before turning their light off and exiting their bedroom, gravitating towards the sound of laughter from adults.

Usually, they all spoke French. Rosie had taken it as a secondary course in high school, so she understood enough, but it was still not enough for her to converse at a pace that wasn't slow. But hearing the three adults speak English and then mention her name, she froze.

Jennifer spoke. "So Antoine, where's your girlfriend from, again?"

"I don't know, somewhere in Germany." Antoine responded, with a shrug. "Why?"

"She looks so familiar, but I can't quite remember how or why." Jennifer responded, nonchalantly.

"I thought that too when I first saw her. It's surprising, I didn't expect her to be from Germany." Olivier spoke, his voice equally calm.

Antoine was silent for a few moments. "I believe her family descends from elsewhere. Her father is African-American and her mother is half Spanish. She's so beautiful, I'm glad it turned out that way."

Rosie smiled slightly. Antoine, coming to the rescue.

"Oh, I know where I've seen her!" Olivier clapped his hands. "Mesut had showed me a photo of them together. He said they used to—"

"—They're out like lights." Rosie chose that very moment to interrupt Olivier, especially because he was about to tell Antoine a huge lie. "Jade is a complete angel...she didn't bite me at all." She stated, smiling at Jennifer, who had warned Rosie of her daughter's tendency towards strangers.

"She likes you, that's why." Olivier responded, with a grin. "Maybe you have superpowers."

Rosie's caramel eyes pierced Olivier's blue ones. "Quite possibly." Was all she spoke, with a smile. "How old is Jade, again?"

"Just two years." Jennifer stated, blinking. "So, Rosie, do you want any kids?"

Rosie's lips formed a line. Antoine's eyes widened and he gave her a look, one that told her she didn't have to answer. Rosie plastered a painful smile on her lips, blinked, and spoke. "I don't I'll be having children anytime soon."

"Which is perfectly reasonable. One year olds are handfuls," Olivier spoke, looking to Jen. "We know that."

Jennifer turned back to Antoine and Rosie. "You two would make beautiful children, I'm sure of it. Maybe you'll have a change of heart. Sooner, rather than later."

Rosie swallowed and nodded. Antoine nervously chuckled. The subject was quickly changed. The two men soon grew intoxicated and began to talk to each other about things neither Jen nor Rosie understood, and eventually Jennifer decided that she'd go back to her cabin next door, because she was tired. So Rosie was left to be the only woman in the room.

Antoine began to grow touchy as he and Olivier spoke in French, while Rosie went on her phone, not really minding Antoine's hands on her body until the Frenchman began to tease his fingers under her shirt and mess with the hem of her pants right there in front of Olivier.

Nudging Antoine with a red face, she spoke. "I think it's time for you to go to bed."

Antoine slurred. "But Olivier and I are having such a great conversation!"

"Well, I wouldn't know."

Antoine gave her cheek a wet kiss and went back to his French dialect. Rosie grunted and eventually, when she realized they were talking about her, grew uncomfortable; she stated that she was going to go to bed and Antoine let her.

An hour later, he joined her. "I'm sorry. Are you mad at me?"

"No." Rosie responded, truthfully.

Antoine weaved his fingers through her hair. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Antoine...I know how I feel."

Antoine heaved out a sigh. "But you have all the reason to be mad at me, and—"

"—Antoine, you're drunk." Rosie interrupted him, now the slightest bit annoyed. Her tone showed it. "Go to sleep."

Antoine silenced himself. His thoughts created a maze, something he so desperately wished he could turn into words. But his mind was a mess—something which he knew couldn't be heard—and though nothing made any sense to him when he was drunk, everything felt like an oblivion when he was sober. At least now, being drunk, he had an excuse for this fuzziness he felt in his mind. An excuse to feel worried, nervous, and anxious all at once and for no apparent reason.

He didn't even know if he wanted to stay in the cabin anymore. Not with Olivier near. Olivier had a history of doing and saying stupid things when he was drunk, but earlier, he'd gone on and on about Rosie and how beautiful she is and how lucky Antoine was to have a woman like her. Which was why Antoine had to grow possessive over his girlfriend, placing his hands all over her. And while he knew that Rosie would never cheat, he certainly couldn't say the same about Olivier, who had a terrible history when it came to being faithful.

"Antoine, you're worrying me now." Rosie mumbled, staring at him. He'd been thinking all of this, slowly, while staring into the abyss. To Rosie, he looked like a drunk, hypnotized Frenchman. She placed her hand on his shoulder. "Please...try to go to sleep. It'll be over in the morning.

Antoine closed his eyes and blushed as Rosie pulled him into her, feeling like it should've been the other way around. He spoke, softly, his voice suddenly filled with sorrow. "Bonne nuit, Rosie. I love you."

Rosie had already fallen asleep before she got the chance to respond.