translated ♛ || a. griezmann

•deux•

I fall back onto my bed, sighing in both relief and fatigue.

I had just finished unpacking, and I'm so immensely glad that international students don't have to share a dorm room with anyone. Although it'd be nice to have a friend around, I always found myself being more productive independently.

I decide that I have to get up and buy some food, or at least some stuff to eat so I won't starve to death.

I grab my purse and keys, quickly opening the door before getting bombarded by all the students walking back and forth in the hallways.

I'm going to have to get used to this.

After pulling out a map from my purse, I find a convenience store around the athletic stadium. The sun is just beginning to set over the horizon, so I start jogging towards the athletic stadium. I run past some students who are heading back to the dorm, and they are looking at me as if I'm crazy. Of course, classes ended almost three hours ago, so why would I be going in the opposite direction as everyone?

Finally after a brisk jog, I make it to the small, cramped convenience store.

It looks kind of sketchy, with loads of snacks and drinks piled up on the shelves. I look around to see what kind of food I can buy, and there honestly isn't much. I sigh before finding some microwavable food in case of emergencies, as well as a few packs of water. The snacks in Europe taste amazing, so I decide to buy a few treats before rushing over to the cashier.

"¿Eso seria todo?" The cashier asked . (Will that be all?)

"S-Si," I respond, hoping that what he asked me wasn't too important.

I quickly pay for my snacks and food before rushing out the door, a little bit too fast. Once I push the door open, I realize that it's hit something.

More like someone.

My eyes dart up frantically at whoever I just smashed the door against.

I'm met with a pair of beautiful blue eyes.

It's that guy from before, the short one.

I hear him curse silently under his breath, and before I even have time to register that he was cursing in French, I'm already bolting out the door.

"Hey, wait!" I hear a voice call out, "Stop!"

I keep on walking straight.

I need to get out of here. Short dude probably wants to murder me now, and his friend was probably just calling him.

I jump slightly when I feel a hand rest on my shoulder. A jolt makes its way down my spine as I whip my head back, putting my arms up in surrender. But I'm not met with those blue eyes anymore. Instead, I'm met with the brown eyes of his friend, smiling away at me as if he never stopped.

"I have uh..." he stops to think for a bit, "I have y-your erm..."

His English is slightly broken and his accent makes everything more humorous than it should be. I chuckle softly and he pouts at me, as if knowing that I was mocking him.

"I have your ah... Shedule? Schedule?" He stutters.

"Schedule, and thanks, but I don't need it anymore," I laugh. He cocks his head to the side and furrows his eyebrows. Then he does something that I'm not expecting. He motions for me to follow him, and for a moment I stop in my tracks.

"Come with me?" He asks.

"Where?"

He just shrugs.

I slowly shake my head, "I'm sorry but-"

"Please? I not scary." he says, pointing to himself and shaking his head.

I laugh softly again, smiling at his attempt to get me to go with him to wherever he wanted to lead. Or kidnap me.

"¿Cómo te llamas?" I say in a horrible French accent.

His eyebrows raise, as if me saying "What's your name" was the most surprising thing in the entire world.

"Raphael."

I nod slightly, but he continues.

"You?"

"Rosalie," I answer, "But call me Rose."

He nods, before opening and closing his mouth a few times.

"Tu parles français?" He asks in my native language.

My eyebrows shoot up and my eyes widen as I turn my head towards him.

"How did you know?" I ask, clearly astonished.

"Your accent gives it away," he chuckles. Before I know it, he's dragging me towards what looks like the athletic stadium.

"Hey, where are we going?" I ask. He just shakes his head and continues dragging me towards the stadium.

"You like football?"

"Not really?"

"Whatever!" He adds, running faster. We stop for a moment before we enter the stadium, and I'm completely out of breath. I watch as he pulls out his phone, probably texting somebody.

Then it hits me.

Where did his friend go? The short guy?

I think to myself that it's probably rude to call him 'the short guy' when he's probably taller than me.

As if on cue, I hear somebody yelling, running in our direction.

"Grizi!!" Raphael shouts excitedly.

They start exchanging words in Spanish, with the short guy glancing over at me every few seconds. Raphael walks over to me and puts an arm around me, smiling towards short guy and speaking in rapid-fire Spanish. Short guy narrows his eyes at Raphael, while Raphael takes his arm off of me, and a sigh escapes my mouth. I didn't realize that I had been holding my breath in fear of getting abducted or kidnapped. After all it was starting to get dark.

Shortie continues frowning, his piercing gaze directed towards none other than myself. It feels as if all sound around me has been drowned out, and once again I feel like I'm falling into a trance.

It's the sharp voice of Raphael that brings me back to my senses.

"Rosalie! Rose!" He says, raising his voice.

I turn my head to look at him and I respond, "Raphael?"

Upon saying this, I notice shortie raising one of his eyebrows, looking shocked.

Uh oh. Did I do something?

"¿En serio?" Short dude scoffs, "¿Ella ya sabe tu nombre?" (seriously? She already knows your name?)

I watch as Raphael shoots him a look, but then smirks playfully afterwards. He points to shortie, and smiles at me.

"Il s'appelle Antoine," He says.

"Antoine Griezmann."

I nod slowly as Antoine's eyes continue to stare deep into mine.

"Grizi," he says to Antoine and pointing to me, "Rosalie."

"Rose," I correct Raphael.

He mouths an 'ah' before we all fall silent.

There's an awkward silence that fills the air, and I'm left with no words either. There's an uncomfortable tension in the atmosphere, and I realize that I had completely forgotten why I came out of my dorm room in the first place.

All I can remember are those striking blue eyes.