translated ♛ || a. griezmann

•dix-neuf•

"Why are you in my sister's house?" He asks, rather coldly.

"Maud invited me over. And I actually wanted to uh... see you," I respond quickly, praying that Maud was coming home soon.

He looks as if something is troubling him; like something bad happened at training, or he was just tired.

"Did Deschamps step on you or something?" Théo remarks, sensing Antoine's grumpiness.

"Or did you fall on your face when kicking a penalty shot?" I add, snickering.

I lock eyes with Théo, and we both start laughing again.

Antoine doesn't laugh, though.

"I see, even you are irritating me today, eh?" He scowls.

I furrow my eyebrows. Usually Antoine will take a joke.

"No, it was just a joke–"

"You really like making jokes, don't you?" Antoine remarks, his voice colder than before, "First the airport, now this?"

What's gotten into him?

"You should be a comedian," He laughs coldly, "you'd probably be a better comedian than me as a footballer."

"I guess I can't joke around with you anymore, can I?" I say softly under my breath.

"What did you say?" He snaps, his tone rising.

"Bro, calm down. You shouldn't talk like that towards a gir–"

"Get out of here, Théo. You've never even been in a relationship before, so just shut your mouth," Antoine spats, in a very arrogant way.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, okay first of all I have. And second of all how is it just automatically my fau–"

"I said get out. Go to your room or something." Antoine repeats, his face full of ire.

Théo raises his eyebrows and retreats to his room almost instantly, like any good brother would.

"Hey now, he's your brother. You shouldn't be so ru–"

"He's my younger brother and that's why I should." He cuts me off.

That literally makes no sense at all.

He then scoots closer to me, pulling my body against his. He positions himself so that the position we're in is almost identical to that when we confessed to each other a week ago. It's like he's purposefully trying to arouse me by placing his legs over mine. I can feel his hands slowly creeping up my thigh, his face closing in on mine as he leans in.

I don't like it.

I don't like it at all.

Everything feels so forced, all of a sudden. I know he's about to lean in and kiss me hungrily, but I stop him.

I stop him with a question.

"Antoine? What are we?" I ask all of a sudden.

His eyes open, and lock onto mine.

"What?"

"This. Our relationship." I clarify, making a hand signal between the two of us.

"What do you mean?" He asks again, his expression changing instantly.

"I mean we've confessed, right?" I ask nervously, my heart rate increasing every second.

"Yeah? And why do we need to label this? Are labels all you care about?" He asks, his foul mood back again.