translated ♛ || a. griezmann

•trente trois•

What I said seems to have ignited a spark in Antoine.

The beginning of February started slow, as the doctors began treating me and soon realized that my case wasn't as mild as they thought it would be. It also started slow for him, as he was all caught up in what I told him to ignore, causing Atlético Madrid to crash out of the Copa Del Rey quarterfinal and to lose against Barcelona with a red card.

But considering my condition was beginning to get worse, I decided that I'd go to one of his matches. After all, I hadn't been to one since I arrived in Madrid (which is strange considering Antoine is a footballer).

"Antoine?"

"Hm?"

"Can I come to your match tomorrow?" I ask, as I slowly massage his shoulders.

He turns around to face me with a surprised expression.

"Why?"

"I dont know," I shrug. "I mean it's the derby, right? Might as well cheer you guys on live."

A small smile makes its way onto his face, before it melts into a frown.

"Are you sure? I mean your... will it..."

"No," I shake my head, "plus, it's the Santiago Bernabéu, no? I could probably get some accommodations made so that I can watch the game from a quieter area."

He has an apprehensive expression on his face. "I don't know, I mean we are the away team after all."

"It's okay. Plus, it's literally a fifteen minute drive from here." I tell him.

"If you say so."

"You're going to beat them, right?" I smirk.

"Of course, Rosalie." He responds quickly.

"You're going to score a goal?" I ask.

"Of course, Rosalie." He repeats with a smile.

"You're going to score a hattrick?" I ask once again.

"Don't know about that but I'll try." He laughs, scratching the back of his head. "I'm going to score. And I'm going to score for you, mi amor."

"You're so cheesy." I laugh, planting a small kiss on his head.

"You're so cute." He notes, causing me to blush slightly.

~

When we arrive to the stadium, Antoine enters the locker room area with his team while I enter the massive stadium with two people dressed in suits. Atlético were nice enough to somehow get me a VIP spot so that I could enjoy the game live but not have to be surrounded by too much chaos.

Almost everyone has decorated themselves with some sort of identity to show what team they had come to support. Obviously most of the arena is covered in white jerseys, many with the infamous "CR7" and others with just plain jerseys.

I'm dressed in a red and white "Griezmann" jersey, which is a stark contrast to the sea of white surrounding me.

Oh well.

When the players enter the field for warm-ups, I feel somebody sitting down next to me.

"Amelia?"

"Thought I'd find you here." She says, straightening out her Lucas Hernandez jersey.

"He's not starting today, is he?" I ask.

"Nah. Luki's relatively new. Still reppin' my main man, though." She laughs.