rosie | griezmann

21

"What's your family like?" Antoine inquired, as the two lay on his rooftop and stared up at the sky. A week after their engagement, they hadn't even told their friends; they just fell a little more in love with one another as the time passed.

"Uh...what?" Rosie responded, her face red.

Antoine propped himself up on an elbow and smiled down at Rosie. He simply couldn't imagine what his life would be like without her; what if he'd gone three doors down like he was supposed to instead of two and then knocked.

"You never talk about them. Your family...tell me about them."

"Well..." Rosie's voice drifted off. "My mother and father both died when I was little, around five. They left the car running while they were doing work in the garage. I still don't know if it was suicide or accidental, and I don't think I ever do want to know." Rosie shrugged. "I—"

"I'm sorry," Antoine interrupted, placing his hand on her cheek. How could she remain so calm when talking about something so cruel that'd happened to her? "I didn't know."

Rosie smiled. "Of course you didn't, that's why you asked. It's okay, I can't hold my feelings in forever. I've come to terms with it."

Antoine kissed the tip of her nose. "So, what's this I hear about you dating Mesut Özil?"

"I don't know, it depends on what you've heard." Rosie's voice grew uninterested in the subject that Antoine had introduced. "You like to believe stuff you read on the Internet?"

"Nooo," Antoine drew out the o. "I just thought I would ask."

Rosie propped herself up on an elbow and turned to face Antoine, no longer focusing on the starry night. It didn't matter; Antoine was a better view anyways. "Yeah, I dated Mesut. It was the worst three years of my life."

Antoine frowned. "What did he do to you?"

"It's not what he did to me, but rather what I did to myself." Rosie shrugged a shoulder. "Mesut was very...superficial. I don't know, he was so into public image and everything that it was overwhelming. I did so many things to myself just to look good for him. I would starve myself or I would eat too much, or spend too much time in the gym working out until my body couldn't take it. On top of that, I had to handle so many meds for my own emotional and physical issues while seeing my own patients suffer from the same ones." Rosie shuddered and fell back onto the roof.

"Then he said that he wanted for us to have a child. After so many unsuccessful attempts, Mesut thought that I was sabotaging them. The pills that I would take to get myself to stop eating or to control my anxiety attacks were the ones he thought were birth control or something, and I was too afraid to tell him that I was infertile, because only lord knew what he would do if he found that out. I was so unstable without those meds, though, I felt like I was going crazy...eventually Mesut began to push and shove me and ultimately unleash his anger, whether it was football related or not, on me." Rosie sighed. "So I ran off, here to Spain. I haven't talked to him since, that's all." 

Antoine felt himself clench his jaw as he moved to lay beside her, facing her while he placed his hand on her lower stomach and his lips on her ear. "Rosie, why didn't you tell me earlier? Mesut could've been dead by now. I could hire a hitman, and—"

"Antoine! Then you'd go to jail, and your pretty face wouldn't last very long there."

"I'd do it for you." Antoine spoke, before hovering his mouth over hers and running his fingers down her cheek. He didn't need to respond to what Rosie had told him about Mesut—she knew how sorry he was that it'd happened to her; that if he could go back into the past and knock some sense into the German, he would—but for now, all they could do was move forward as a couple, and all he could do was everything Mesut hadn't. Which, Rosie could easily say, he was succeeding at. "I'd do anything for you." Antoine added on, softly. His voice was barely a whisper, and Rosie's eyes were closed. She was probably falling asleep.

Still, he brushed his lips against hers before falling next to her and closing his eyes. His life had never felt so perfect. "I would do anything for you too, Antoine." Rosie finally responds, turning to face him. 

She kisses his cheek and in an instance it all makes sense, that this burning of his skin is all because of her, that the tingling of her lips is indebted to the jawline she can't help but admire. He engulfs her hand in his two as his fingers begin tracing over the patterns in her veins that even Rosie does not recognize. She can't help but be hyper-conscious of the way their sides are pressed together and the way her fingers linger on his, as though they are two teenagers on a date and not two engaged adults, so in love.

From the way his fingers curl around hers a little tighter, she knows he feels it too. The way their hands slip into each other's still is not practiced, but instead rather fumbled, and it takes a coy Antoine a few tries for him to become comfortable with the beautiful creature cradling his palm ever so gently. In the darkness it is easy for Rosie to rest her head on his shoulder and pretend they are the only two in the Universe, that years from now they will be sitting together, just like that, and for an eternal moment it will be just as it is in that second—heads together, arms tangled.

"You are the love of my life." Antoine finally blurts, to a half-asleep Rosie. He knows that he's said it a million times, but he just can't tell her enough. 

"And you are mine." She responds, softly. "Go to sleep, Antoine. You have an early flight tomorrow and a huge tournament to prepare yourself for." 

Antoine groaned. Of course he was ready for the Euros, but that was so much time he'd have to spend away from Rosie and Angel, the ones that mattered. "You'll come to France, won't you?" He finally inquired, scratching his head. Finally, he realized—or he believed—Rosie was no longer keeping anything from him. 

"Of course I will, Antoine." Rosie rose her eyebrows. Even if she didn't want to, how could she be the fiancée of France's key player and not fly to his home country to watch him lead his team? Antoine must've realized it, for he blushed and listened as Rosie laughed at him before she spoke. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." 

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a/n: i have no clue where i'm going with this story omfg. but i have a new grizi story check it out