Chapter 31 - Butterflies?!

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~ Author's Note ~

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~ Author's Note ~

Hi guys, I just realised that sometimes I misspell Reese's name with a 'c' instead of an 's', so sorry for that. I'm sure you guys haven't even realised that, but it officially is with an 's', so I will try to stick to spelling it with an 's'. Thank you!


𝑵𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝑰 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆, 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒃𝒆 𝒎𝒆. 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒔𝒖𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓.


Antoine's Perspective


I wake up to feeling smooth small hands shaking my shoulders, and I roll over, letting my eyes flutter open to see Reese Mallory looking down at me. I gaze upon her. Her eyes are shining a bit, and there is sunlight from the window shining behind her, onto her, making her look...

Pretty?

Maybe.

Kind of like...

an angel?

Pfft, a pretty angel? Where did that come from, Antoine?

"What time is it...?" I groan.

"Like, 9:00 A.M. I wouldn't have woken you up, because I know you need sleep, and it's a Saturday, but Gabe told me I should because he has breakfast for you."

Suddenly, I'm completely awake, and I say, "You make breakfast?"

"Gabe did, yeah. Why?"

What I want to say is, 'That's so nice that you actually eat breakfast and that somebody makes it. It's so sweet the way Gabe look out for you like that.' Instead I grunt, "Oh, nothing."

"Gabe found some clothes that might fit you. He gave them to me. Wanna get dressed? I can leave."

"Sure," I nod, and watch as she leaves. I wait a few seconds after she closes the door before I start undressing myself. I sigh, and my bones feel so achy, despite that this air mattress is actually more comfortable than either my bed at my mama's or my papa's. I feel a wave of heat hit me, and I stumble a bit, and swear under my breath.

Because it's clear to me that everything has finally caught up to my physical health, and at just about the worst possible time, too. I don't want to get Reese Mallory and her family sick... I don't want to, but I better just tell her straight-up I'm not feeling well. I put on that Gabe guy's blue long sleeve Nike shirt and black sweatpants and open the door to the bedroom. Reese Mallory is standing right there, wearing a white V-neck sweater, her hair down, and I realise that her makeup is different than usual. I make sure not to look for very long, but only briefly let my eyes travel over her before saying, "Reese Mallory, I feel bad for saying this, but I'm not feeling well."

"Meaning... what?" she asks, her eyebrows curving up in nothing but deep concern.

"Meaning that my bones are achy, I think I'm running a fever, I'm shaky, and I feel a cold coming on, and I usually wouldn't burden you with this, but I'd better go because I don't want to get you or your family sick."

She stares at me, eyes wide, and she's got a weird look in her eyes that I don't understand, likely because she's a girl, and girls have always been difficult to understand. Finally she says, "Come downstairs and have breakfast."

"No..."

"Are you hungry?"

I want to lie, but I feel like it wouldn't be fair to lie to her, after all the mercy she's shown to me for not reason other than the kindness of her own heart, despite the awful things I've done to her. So I say, "Yes, I am, I suppose."

"Then come on down."

I sigh. "I don't want to make you and others sick, though."

"Antoine, shut up and come down!" she suddenly snaps, which makes me shut up. Because I guess if she's really that adamant, there's not much I can do about it. I guess it'll be her fault if she and others get sick, not mine, because I've done everything I could and should do. I mean, right?

We head downstairs, and there's a little girl trailing behind the Gabe man, and Gabe says, "Good morning, Pierre. Morning, Reese. I've got to bring your sister to daycare and then head back home to take care of your mum, since I'm sure you can't babysit her, since you've got community service still, right?"


Reese's Perspective


"Oh, actually," I grin. "That finished up last week."

"Oh, nice. Well, your sister wants to go to daycare, anyway, and I'm sure you don't want to babysit her." Suddenly, he winks, saying, "Why don't you and Pierre spend some time together, huh? Help yourselves to some pancakes!" The he takes my sister's hand and heads out the door, just like that, leaving me staring at the door, my cheeks feeling warm, sweating creeping up on the back of my neck at his suggestive comment. He totally thinks that I like Antoine, or, to him, 'Pierre Dubois'.

I smile to myself at this suddenly realisation. Maybe I'm not getting these weird feelings for Antoine Griezmann. Maybe I'm not at all. Maybe it's just Pierre Dubois that I'm getting warm about. It's not 'Antoine'. It's 'Pierre'.

Even though they're obviously the same boy.

But shut up, brain! I don't need to be reminded of that! Because this sure seems like a different boy!

"Hey, Reese Mallory?"

"Huh?" I ask, snapping out of my thoughts, looking up at him. He's not very tall, but he sure is tall compared to me. Of course I've always known this. I've never forgotten it, actually, since one of his favorite nicknames for me has always been simply 'shorty'.

He smiles, his blue eyes looking a little faint, and I think he's handsome. Wow! my heart exclaims as butterflies wake up within me. I catch that moment in my brain of his light blue eyes resting on mine and the soft smile on his face. I like it. Gosh, I'm just like every other girl. Letting Antoine Griezmann's looks get to me. Sheesh. I've ever been this kind of girl! "You seem to be very lost off in your thoughts, is all," he comments.

"Oh, right," I laugh nervously, feeling embarrassment sink in. "Right. How about some pancakes now?"

"Sounds good."

𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒔 // 𝙰𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙶𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚣𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚗Where stories live. Discover now