rosie | griezmann

19

Rosie bit her lip and stared at her reflection in the mirror one last time before turning to Antoine, who just smiled and sat on the side of their bed as he watched her panic over her appearance. Antoine's family would be at the door any moment, and Rosie hadn't found out until that very day.  

"Tell me, Antoine. How do I look? And be honest with me."

Antoine smiled more. Rosie was wearing a cream colored sweater dress which was form fitting and stopped around her knees; it was long sleeved and was made of expensive looking cashmere. On her feet, she wore heels; Antoine didn't know why because there was no way he was letting her go anywhere looking so good, despite the fact that she'd dressed this well to impress Antoine's family.

"Beautiful," he finally spoke. "Très belle. Vous etes la plus belle femme du monde, Rosie."

Rosie smiled and laughed as Antoine called her the most beautiful woman on the planet, which she was in his eyes. "I have absolutely no clue what you just said. I love it. I love you." She froze as the doorbell rang. "Oh, they're here. Should I go answer it? Of course I should."

Rosie rushed down the stairs and scooped up Angel, who tried her best to reach the doorknob and open it herself. Chuckling at Antoine's daughter, Rosie opened the door with a smile. She faced Antoine's entire family, who was speechless for a moment.

They'd never seen Antoine's new girlfriend, but Antoine had gone on and on enough for them to know plenty about her—and no one expected her to be so stunning, no matter how many times Antoine had tried to tell them. His descriptions had all sounded so exaggerated. "She looks like a goddess, like most beautiful woman in the world," He'd once told his mother. And Isabelle laughed and said that yes, they all looked that way when you were in love.

But now Isabelle was in awe. So was Alain, so was Maud, and so was Theo—Antoine's entire family stared at Rosie as though they were in the presence of a holy being.

Rosie couldn't tell. She automatically assumed the worst from Antoine's family's lack of speech, and it wasn't until Antoine himself came behind Rosie, speaking in French, did someone finally speak to her.

"Rosie, it's so nice to finally meet you." Isabelle spoke in almost perfect English, stepping closer. Rosie smiled and allowed Antoine's mother to kiss her cheeks; she knew it was a French custom but didn't know how to perform it herself. "You're just as beautiful as my son has made you out to be."

Rosie smiled, and Antoine blushed as she introduced herself to his entire family. They entered the cabin, which was a total mess—Rosie had been cooking and Antoine had been in charge of Jade and Angel while they decorated the tree—Olivier and Jen had gone to go wrap everyone's presents in their own cabin.

Antoine was just relieved to see that his family liked Rosie, despite the fact that she was in no way, shape, or form unlikeable—and, at this point, he had concluded that her having been a therapist was no explanation for her personality.

Antoine's family quickly made themselves at home. His sister played with the two girls, His brother and father dragged Antoine with them to go cut firewood (as though Antoine didn't have some that he'd already bought from the store and that they could easily use instead), and Isabelle helped Rosie in the kitchen.

"So, how long have you been with my son?" Isabelle inquired, messing with the oven. She did like Rosie, but she knew Rosie would take some getting used to; Erika was different in the sense that she was rather eccentric and outgoing, whereas Rosie was the perfect girl next door.

"A few months." Rosie responded, feeling stupid for not remembering exactly.

Isabelle sighed. "Antoine really loves you," she paused. So much, in fact, that he'd brought up marriage multiple times with his mother; at some points he even seemed obsessed with the German that she found rather mysterious. "Do you love him?"

"Yes, of course." Rosie paused and turned to face Isabelle, her eyes racked with a slight worry. "If there's anything I can do to prove it—" 

"—No, no." Isabelle offered a small, reassuring smile. "I believe you. And even if I didn't, I could never ask you to leave him or whatever. Antoine's been going through so much lately, and none of us know how we can help him. No one really knows what's going on, and it hurts me, as his mother, to see him fail to come to terms with his mind and the way he is." Isabelle's eyes saddened before they flicked up to Rosie's. "He's only happy when he talks about you. Angel, too, but you...you understand him." 

Rosie nodded, going back to her cooking and then pausing. Isabelle hoped that Rosie understood her discreet plead. Please, stay with my son forever; I'm afraid of what might happen if you ever leave him. Would the stars would remain in alignment and would the universe be capable of remaining the same?

And Rosie did hear it. She set the knife down and looked at Isabelle. "I won't leave him, I would never leave him." Rosie crossed her heart, like a child. It caused Isabelle to smile, relieved, and Rosie spoke the words she never should've said in the first place. "I swear on my life." 

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a/n: someone messaged me and asked what Rosie looked like so that they could get a clearer image of her while reading the story. I don't have a face claim, but in terms of physical description, I've always seen her as a curvaceous female with light brown skin (she is half black, half white) and curly hair, her eyes being an intriguing and light shade of amber.  I think I've compared them to the color of caramel once. Any other q's, let me know :)