fugitive | griezmann

chapter two

pray for nice🇫🇷
Antoine Griezmann
Tuesday, March 8th

My soft hair whipped lightly as the spring breeze teased it. I ran my fingers through it then adjusted the black shades that shielded my blue eyes from the sun and the possibility of being recognized.

I was going to the library and I would hate for people to disturb me, which was my reason for going in the first place. The library was the only quiet place in the city and I considered it an escape from my hectic life. I often found myself there.

My head was busy and reeling over the last game I played, which I barely played. When I did play, I played terribly, nearly costing us the game. My teammates weren't mad at me, assuring me that everyone slips up, but I was mad at myself.

My torn up vans stopped in front of the medium sized building on the corner. I breathed in the city air and made my way up the short flight of stairs.

I pushed open the door, and sighed in relief. It was just the right amount of quiet. My eyes were closed, soaking in the silence when a woman's voice snatched me from the moment.

"Do you need help finding anything?"

I opened one eye first, but when I saw her my other eye snapped open. She was beautiful to say the absolute least.

Her skin was a glowing caramel, and her thick, curly hair was pushed back by a pair of reading glasses. Her thick eyebrows were cleanly plucked and her facial features were sharp.

She was a beautiful woman, and I was surprised to see her in Madrid. She must be Brazilian or something mixed with African, I thought to myself as I took in the melanin color of her gorgeous skin.

"Are you okay?" she asked me with concern painted on her face. I nodded my head at her and pushed out a small smile of reassurance.

"Alright," she said unsure, "if you need anything I'll be at big desk where you checkout."

I nodded at her with the smile still on my face and she smiled back before turning on her heel and walking away.

Her legs were covered by a pair of dark jeans that made her butt pop, I didn't look on purpose. Covering her top half was a simple white pocket tee and white converse.

I scurried to the corner of the large room and sat down. I picked up a random book like I usually did, and started in a random spot. I liked to make myself think, and imagine things. It made reading that much more enjoyable.

I was comfy in the warm love seat as I read, losing track of the time. My feet were perched on the table in front of me as I flipped another page.

I looked up as I saw a figure in front of my book. She was standing there sheepish with a book in her hands. My eyes scanned the title and I smiled. Matilda.

"We close in about ten minutes," she murmured as she looked at me closely. I had ditched my sunglasses, so I wouldn't be surprised if she knew who I was.

"I'm sorry," I told her and she shook her head.

"I live in the back, you can read as long as you want and the come through the back when you're finished," she told me softly and brushed a curl from her eyes.