novacane | griezmann

30 // ELLIOTT

a/n: I think nearly half of this chapter is smut. like probably more than that—it's practically the whole chapter. alas, if you're not into that, you'd probably be better off waiting until the next time I update lol

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"It was amazing, Antoine. I really love watching you play. I'm glad it makes you happy, because it makes me happy, too." I couldn't stop rambling on and on about the game France had won against Italy as Antoine and I walked next to one another, hand in hand.

"But you make me happier, Elliott. You know that, right?" Antoine's eyes bore hope as he gazed down at me. I was wearing five inch heels, and Antoine wasn't even that tall—but I was still short enough to have to glance up at the Frenchman. I nodded in agreement, because I know he wanted me to.

"Though it was so embarrassing when you made the stadium sing happy birthday to me." I nudged the Frenchman, who laughed.

"I couldn't help it. Trust me, they didn't mind seeing you up on the big screen. Not in that dress, anyways." Antoine sent a wink my way, leaving me to roll my eyes.

"Yeah, right. Or did you just want the entire world to know that I was your girlfriend?"

Antoine shrugged, "A mix of both, actually." As the two of us continued to walk in a comfortable silence, I noticed his face grow red; his breath quickened and instantly I realized that something was making him nervous.

"Antoine," I began, "Are you okay?"

"I should do this now." He stopped and turned to face me, "Before my nerves get the best of me."

As the Frenchman got down on one knee, I rose my eyebrows, plain-faced. "Antoine, you're not going to ask me to marry you, right? Because—"

"No," Antoine chuckled and shook his head as he pulled out a small black box. "But at the same time, I kind of am. You see...this ring," He opened the box and gazed up at me. I looked between his shiny eyes and the shiny ring, trying to decide which was more stunning, more beautiful—indeed, it was a hard decision.

"Was my mother's. My father gave it to her when they were just a little older and, admittedly, smarter than the two of us. I know we're young, Elliott, but I really hope you're the one. There's something scary about this love. It's scary because it's new, but it's also scary because any rational person might try to predict its ending. After all, there are only two possible outcomes; we say goodbye or we don't. And even though I pride myself on being the most rational of creatures, I hope beyond hope that we never have to say goodbye."

"And so with that being said, I know that we're going to have to leave one another eventually. Not spiritually, but physically. I'll have to go to Spain, and you'll need to finish your studies in London. But I'm committed wholeheartedly to this relationship and you need a reminder whenever I'm away, whenever you think I may have forgotten about you. Though I would never let you think that."

"I would ask you to think of this as a promise ring, but that's so terribly cliché. And though I'm not proposing marriage to you right now, but I need you to know that, one day, I will. So until I do, this ring is my promise. I've said it before and I'll say it again." The Frenchman paused and sniffled. Oh my God, I thought. Antoine is crying—now I'm going to cry. "I love you, always."

I held my hand out. "And so do I." I responded, as he grinned and put the ring on my finger. He sprung up and lifted me like I weighed nothing before spinning me around and placing me on the ground, kissing me out of relief. "Antoine, you didn't really think I would say no, did you?"