protocol | antoine griezmann ✓

Chapter Fourteen.

«We're not, no we're not friends, nor have we ever been. We just try to keep those secrets in a lie and if they find out, will it all go wrong? And heaven knows, no one wants it to.»  

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"Go faster to happiness!" The well-toned woman yelled with emotion.

Alexandra gasped for air –or for life actually. She couldn't feel her legs anymore and she was pretty sure that her lungs weren't properly working. She eyed Elena who was next to her and snorted; she looked like she was doing a commercial while Alexandra knew she looked like she was having a heart attack –or something even worse.

"I think I'm going to pass out" Alexandra moaned, slowing down her speed in the spinning machine. "No seriously, I'm going to pass out for real"

"Oh come on Alex, it feels really good" Elena said as cool as if she was drinking a goddamn margarita in the Bahamas.

"Of course you say that, you look like you're doing an infomercial" She complained and looked around. Every woman in that room looked like a fresh cucumber.

Every woman but Alexandra Westorn, whose physical condition was the worst.

"You said you wanted to clear your mind about Antoine, I thought this was a good idea to clear your mind about him" Well, you were wrong then.

"I thought you would take me shopping. That's how I cleared my mind back in Chicago, not almost dying in a spinning machine surrounded by hot women who are oddly in a good physical condition and seem to be rubbing that on my face" Maybe the last part wasn't true.

"Just keep pedaling; I'll take you to eat something when the class is over" Her good friend promised.

Alexandra nodded –or at least tried to, she didn't have that much energy. She looked down at her gym attire while pedaling really slowly; how can people find someone attractive after going to the gym? You end up sweaty, flushed and smelling like hell.

Exactly like Antoine after a game, an annoying voice called conscience appeared in her head. She shook her head and concentrated in the spinning instructor, maybe sweating –or trying to– her feelings off was all she needed to clear her mind about what she felt towards puppy-faced Antoine Griezmann.

Not so puppy-faced the last time I saw him. More like, hungry-faced.

Even though she was in the edge between life and dead or throwing up her organs or keeping them in place, Alexandra and her weak legs managed to put up with the forty-five minutes spinning class and get out of there with a bit of dignity.

A bit because let's be honest, someone who sounded like she was having an asthma episode in a room full of people in good shape, couldn't get out of there with her dignity unbeaten.

"Look at you, you resisted" Elena happily said as both walked out of the gym. Alexandra turned her head towards her and squinted.

"I resisted? I wouldn't call it like that; it was more like survived to be honest. I don't get why people does this kind of things for pleasure, how can you feel pleasure while exercising? It's stupid!" She was seriously offended about it.

Elena chuckled. "What I don't get is how you have that physique if all you do for exercising is going upstairs and downstairs in your work" Offensive but true.

"Hey first, stairs help you to get the ass, okay? And second, don't mention work because every time someone does it all I can think is about Griezmann, even when it's something absolutely black listed in the club" She painfully said.