rays of sunlight // Antoine Griezmann

Chapter 9

Very shortly, the nice man's car is being pulled into my driveway. "Oh," he smiles. "You live right next to me. That's nice." There's a strange thoughtful tone in his voice.

I nod, not completely comprehending and understanding his words. I just say faintly, "Thank you..."

He gets out of the car and walks around, opening my door. He holds his hand out to me, which I take and use to pull myself out of car, leaving the frozen vegetables on the dash. I stumble into him, lightheadedness flooding me as soon as I am on my feet.

"Easy now. Want help inside?" he asks.

I feel so bad for all the help he's giving me, but I simply nod tiredly, knowing that I can't make it to the door by myself. He lets me lean on him as he brings me to the door. I reach in my pocket, take out the key to the door, and weakly hand it to him. He unlocks the door, and we enter my house.

I'm too tired and sick with fever to realize that he somehow just knows where my room is, and leads me there. He gently tucks the blanket over me, smoothing the sheets over me, not seeming to notice the miserable mess in my room. There is a slight feeling of embarrassment in me, but I'm too confused about everything to feel any strong emotions about anything.

I take my phone out of my pocket, muttering, "You should probably call my boyfriend."

He nods as I sign into my phone and hand it to him.

"Eden," I say. "The contact name in there is Eden. That's my boyfriend."

He nods again, then exits the room, gently shutting the door behind him. After a little amount of time, I hear him start talking on the phone. "Hello? Yeah, I found your girlfriend, Belle, sick, hyperventilating on the street. I drove her back to her house, and she seems to have come down with a sudden fever. She said I should call you. Yeah... She's pretty sick, so she asked me to do that... Right... Oh, right. I'm just a guy visiting my hometown. My name is Antoine. Antoine Griezmann."

Antoine... Antoine... Antoine.. Antoine Griezmann! I jolt up, in a confused surprise, and suddenly, in my fogged up brain, it all makes sense. I'm sure he knows who I am, right? How can this be him? Is this some sort of crazy consequence? No, it can't be. He said he lives next to me. He knew where my room was. Those eyes... they're his. They really are. And his name.

It's him, and somehow, here he is, back in town, in the hallway of my home, on the phone.

Here. He. Is.

Just then, he comes back in, saying, "Hey... Your boyfriend thanked me, and said that... Well, nevermind..."

"I know," I smile lazily. "I know my boyfriend sucks. He's horrible. But you are..."

"Yes?" he asks, a smile suddenly painting on his face, like a beautiful masterpiece.

"You... you are... I'm Belle. Belle Bain."

"I figured... It, uh... You seemed pretty nervous on the street there. Were you okay? Did something happen to you? I'm still concerned."

"Nothing  happened... it's not like I was attacked or anything, if that's what you're wondering..."

"Do you need anything? I'll get an ice pack for your forehead, and how about a cup of water? And do you have a comfort food for when you're sick... I know when you were little it was saltines, right?"

I stare at him in surprise. Saltines? I guess that makes sense, but not even I remember that, but he does. Somehow, this touches me in a way that is hard to describe. "Yeah, uh, cracker are fine, if you can find them. Thank you so much... An... Antoine."

He smiles. "It really is my pleasure, Belle." He gently tightens the blanket around me, props up my pillow more, and leaves the room.

Oh. My. God. What on earth is happening? This is normal. Things like this don't just happen casually every day. My body wants to sleep so badly, but my brain is like a fast, rushing river, thoughts overflowing, that I can't even begin to think about giving my eyes a rest.

Antoine Griezmann comes back, places the ice pack on my forehead, and gently lets me sip the water, putting it to my mouth. "Thank you..." I say, once again.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" he says softly, with a lighthearted chuckle. "You're welcome, and it's my pleasure. No more saying thank you, got it?"

I smile softly. "Sure. Right. So, this is kind of a strange thing. How have... well, this is weird. We used to be so close... I haven't seen you in years..."

"Yeah, I'm feeling some of that, too. And we've had quite the reunion, too, right? Not really too normal, either, if you ask me."

I nod with a smile, all my questions I had vanishing from my brain.

So he says his question instead. "So, how has life been for you?"

I shake my head. "You don't want to know."

Concern fills those specific blue eyes, and he says, gently putting his hand over mine again, "You can talk. I do want to know."

I sigh, avoiding his eyes, which are extremely focused on me. "I don't want to start crying again..."

"Oh... Then you don't have to."

"Now I feel like I should. You should know... And maybe it's good for me to cry more."

"Don't feel any pressure," he says, his thumb rubbing the back of my hand.

"I'll tell. My mother and brother died, as you know. That tore me apart. Then you left..."

"Just say it," he says gently. "I know that tore you apart, too. I was so stupid with that, and I feel the guilt of it. So say it."

I nod. "It tore me even more. Then came a chain of... abusive... maybe. Abusive..." I suddenly choke up, trying to contain myself, thinking back to all the guys. "Right. Abusive relationships. Just bad stuff, Antoine. I was bullied like crazy in high school. I was lonely. No friends, whatsoever. The only comfort were my nasty boyfriends. Then came... a few months ago..." Now I'm crying, and I give up trying to hide it. "My father... he... he passed."

Antoine's eyes are so soft. So empathetic and sympathetic. But most of all, he looks guilty. Responsible.

Why?

Why does he look like that?

He gently leans down, hugging me, in the most emotional embrace I've ever embraced. He says softly, his voice cracking, "I'm sorry, Belle. I'm sorry."