LA VIE EN ROSE… trent alexander-arnold
trent buys white roses every week in maisie's flower shop, becoming her favourite customer.
trent alexander-arnold x fem!oc word count: 2.2k
"could i get a picture too?" asks maisie innocently as trent finally shows up in front of the belrose shop, eight o'clock having just struck.
her search was successful: no sooner had she typed 'trent' into her search bar than an entire wikipedia page on the man —who turned out to be a world-famous footballer— appeared under her nose.
several strange moments came to her mind and maisie was finally able to explain them to herself; such as the woman with her mouth wide open in front of him, his expensive clothes, or his three-week absence due to the world cup.
it was a strange feeling, but in just a few minutes maisie learned more about the boy than she had in weeks of conversations. from the names of his parents to the many interviews of him detailing his favourite songs or the next match he would play, maisie took care to go through everything. well, one tab in particular was analysed in detail: the pictures.
especially the ones of him shirtless, but she would never tell him that.
in the meantime, she watches his face contort into a confused expression, then a veil of guilt passes over his eyes before he begins to explain himself, "look about that, i was meaning to tell you-"
"were you really?" maisie arches an eyebrow; trent doesn't know it, but she's just messing with him.
a desolate expression flashes across his face, "yes, i promise, it's just that—"
"relax," she cracks a laugh, "i was just joking."
trent's shoulders then automatically relax and he shakes his head in laughter, relieved that she wasn't mad at him for keeping a big part of his identity to himself. deep down, he has to admit that he was greatly enjoying talking to maisie as a regular person without all of his success being important to her.
fortunately for him, the girl's gaze does not seem to have changed, even though she is now aware of his public status.
"sooo, you're a football star then?" she dances her eyebrows, and trent chuckles, a warm feeling spreading in his chest at the sight of her smile.
"a star," he shrugs nonchalantly, "i don't think so. i'm just someone who buys white roses every week in the shop of a pretty girl," his words thrown in, trent knows the immediate effect they will have on maisie who starts to blush. "a footballer, yes," he resumes, "i definitely run after a ball."
"it's okay, i talk to plants like they're humans, that's not any better," maisie jokes and they smile like two idiots for long seconds, standing facing each other even though the cool air freezes their blood.
they can't seem to take their eyes off each other, and with good reason; the black suit, perfectly tailored to the young woman's waist with a neckline that leaves little to the imagination, distracts trent perfectly, or is it her flawlessly shaped lips? he doesn't know anymore.
either way, she is sublime.
maisie is equally enthralled by the shirt trent is wearing and the folds created by his muscles stretching under it, giving her a little hot flash that she quickly wipes off. he has unbuttoned the first two buttons for a more relaxing effect and she imagines many things with the little bit of skin he is letting in.
the tension between them is so strong that anyone walking on the pavement would be obliged to change, at the risk of being electrocuted by the currents exchanged of their bodies.
opening the passenger door, trent finally breaks the intensity of the moment and leaning over the seat, stands up with a bouquet of pink roses more modest than the one of white roses he had sent her anonymously.
maisie's mouth twists into an 'o', then into a beaming smile that makes the boy's heart skip a beat as he offers her the flowers gently. circling her hands delicately around the stems, she sniffs a couple of roses, stars in her eyes as she thanks him shyly. a memory finally pops into her mind, and her smile widens right before her eyes.
'pink roses evoke attachment, tenderness, and softness.'
maisie is definitely filled with tenderness and softness at the sentimental gift of the boy who has been admiring the girl with the bouquet in her hands for quite some time —pink looks awfully well on her. the girl is also definitely getting attached to trent —if she wasn't already.
the choice of flowers is perfect, as has been trent since she met him.
finally, and after more than a few sensitive glances at each other, trent invites her into his car, feverishly grasping her fingers in his. he tries to ignore the leap his heart has just made in his chest, but it's no easy task.
as they finally drive to the restaurant that trent had reserved for the occasion, he glances at maisie and asks jokingly, "any interesting articles about me during your research?" he thinks that if they are going to talk about it, they might as well do it now.
she throws her head back as a laugh breaks through her lips, "yes, there were some about your lifestyle with your three girlfriends, your two jetplanes, and the gigantic villa you live in," she declares ironically.
"shit," he puts his hand on his forehead in a dramatic way, "how could i forget to tell you about my three girlfriends? my bad," he apologizes and maisie goes into a fit of giggles as if he just made the joke of the century.
they continue to laugh about the british press and their articles full of misinformation that trent never bothers to read. the atmosphere is relaxed and light; the stress felt by the girl before the date is gone and all the knots are untied in her belly. maisie is having a great start to the evening.
she can't wait for it to continue.
the sun has waved goodbye over liverpool and only an infinite array of stars can be seen before maisie's admiring eyes. trent follows closely behind the girl, but instead of looking in the same direction as her, he stares at the florist and her eyes glistening with euphoria. she is for him the only sight that deserves admiration and the fear that he will never be able to tear his gaze away from her again grows in his heart, enamoured of her gentle eyes.
she is captivating, her eyelids closed and a smile floating on her lips, she lets the fresh red city air slap her face and despite the hair standing on her arms, enjoys the moment gently. the wind tangles her curls in enchanting swirls and trent has to fight the urge to run his fingers through her hair. in a calculated way, he finally decides to place his hands on the railing, close enough to the florist that their shoulders brush lightly against each other.
mentally, he congratulates himself on his carefully considered choice of restaurant, as maisie seems to really enjoy it.
"i love the view, you get to see liverpool from a different angle. it's beautiful," she murmurs as her full lips stretch.
trent is stunned by her smile, and the closeness of their faces, "yeah, beautiful." even he, doesn't know whether he's talking about the view or the girl.
"i had a great time tonight, thanks for bringing me here," a small laugh finds its way between maisie's lips.
"i had a great time too," he says, troubled by the intensity of her gaze.
smiling, she purses her lips before moistening them in a slow, tugging motion for the boy, who feels a little hot at her gesture, suddenly very vulnerable.
"you're beautiful, maisie," the boy admits with a sigh as if to take the weight off his shoulders, weighed down by the nervousness he feels when she's so close.
after his compliment, maisie swears that not even the sun's rays could compare with the warmth of her cheeks, which only flush under trent's compliment and the sincerity that seems to emanate from his words. in a surge of courage, she carefully places her hand in his on the railing and surprised, his stomach drops.
however, one thing makes her frown, "is everything okay? your hands are shaking. do you want to go back to the—"
"no, i'm fine. i'm just nervous... i mean," as he does every time he panics, trent frantically runs one of his hands over the back of his neck, "you're making me nervous."
he doesn't even try to lie or make up a lame excuse, it would be useless. everyone could easily guess that he has taken a liking to her, the girl included.
"oh yeah?" maisie squints her eyelids, amused, and she continues in a joking tone, "i thought you were comfortable with women, considering you have three girlfriends."
she manages to get a smile out of him, "maybe, but there are none like you," he winks exaggeratedly and it's maisie's turn to giggle; she's always laughing too hard for her taste around him, but if she only knew how much trent admires her laugh.
"none like me? that is?" she arches an eyebrow, halfway between humour and concern.
"you know, a girl that i like," he shrugs nonchalantly, "even though you talk to plants and thought my mother was my girlfriend."
a disapproving sound comes out of her mouth and she nudges him with her shoulder, "in my defence, that was really confusing and you said you'd be as silent as a grave," maisie rolls her eyes, falsely annoyed before a smirk appears on her lips.
twirling her hair before resting her bright eyes on him, she watches carefully as he bites his lip and smiles as he does so —he's never found her more beautiful. when she smiles, her dimples deepen and trent tries to resist as much as he can at the adorable look on her face.
in a suggestive tone, she resumes, "too bad, i was going to tell you that i liked you too but you missed your chance."
"you like me?" trent blinks several times, disconcerted by such honesty, and retaining only part of her sentence.
he's not really used to people being so direct with him, especially not women. but he's not unhappy about it, and on the contrary, feels an exquisite warmth spreading in his chest as maisie bursts out laughing. he almost thinks he's worthy of being a comedian when she finally calms down to give him an indecipherable look.
"of course, i wouldn't be here otherwise tonight, trent," her eyes glow with a seductive sparkle and without realizing it, their two faces are now very close, "i have other things to do."
"oh yeah?" he catches himself adopting a suave voice as he leans in closer to her, "like what?"
she pretends to think for a split second as she looks up at the stars, "i can't remember," a pout appears on her lips and trent tries to resist it as much as he can.
"too bad," he pretends to be disappointed to get into her game and with a mischievous look on her face, she nods by getting closer to him.
"i do know something that could help me remember, though," shyly, maisie reaches out and grabs a strand of trent's hair between her fingers, and the boy can clearly see where she is going with this.
"what is it? i'd do anything," trent breathes in the hollow of her ear and the girl thinks she's going to faint as the moment becomes perhaps too intimate for her heart to handle.
but maisie doesn't answer him and gently catches his face in her hands before leaning in to trap her lips in his. trent stands still for a moment, but when he finally realizes that the girl's warm body is resting against his, he immediately responds to her kiss, with the strange feeling of flying as their mouths unite. maisie kisses him so gently, so softly that trent wouldn't be surprised if his heart exploded with happiness.
when they finally pull away, they smile at each other and he sees a tenderness in her eyes that overwhelms him. maisie reminds him of the bouquet he gave her earlier, the one that hangs next to their kissed bodies; her rosy cheeks match the colour of the petals perfectly.
keeping their faces very close without breaking contact, trent bites his lip and whispers to her, "talk to plants, mistake my mother for an imaginary girlfriend and now kiss me on the first date? what am i going to do with you miss belrose?"
"up to you," maisie is panting, hanging on his lips and her knees so badly knocked out that she's almost afraid she will soon fall.
tightening his grip around her waist after sensing her vulnerability, trent deepens his smile lines and declares, "i found something," and he melts back onto her lips in a kiss just as tender as the first —if not more so.
as trent accentuates their embrace, maisie promises herself that she won't throw away the bouquet of pink roses he gave her until a petal survives. she wants to make sure to never forget that starry night.