#timothee is the loml | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mqverick · 2 years

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you’re my best friend i’ll love you forever

(warnings: strong language, light smut, mentions of emotionally unstable past)

im sorry if there are any grammatical/vocabulary errors in this

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hope you don’t regret it

i pushed a lot back but i can’t forget it

he was perfectly fine and healthy, his family was lovely, he was satisfied with the grades he got at school, he was one of the best students in drama class, he graduated. everything was truly fine until he met that one damned girl from drama class. she was probably the friendliest person at school, always with a smile on her face, greeting everyone on her way. she had no right to have such a disarming smile. timothee… he saw her as that divine person he wasn’t even worthy to look upon. she rarely wore any makeup – which was sort of frustrating because according to his point of view, she didn’t even need it.

her hair was brunette and straight, curtain bangs covering her brown eyes most of the times. she didn’t have any freckles, but he could’ve sworn she had some sort of permanent faint blush on her cheeks that brought out the color of her full pink lips that were always covered with a light base of chapstick. in fact, timothee had stolen one of her peach-flavored chapsticks once, just to keep it to himself, wear it on sometimes only to pretend that he was given the chance to finally get to see how her soft lips would taste against his. call it mad, but he’d promised to himself that he’d never let go of that chapstick.

his first encounter with her was during freshman year at high school, somewhere in the hallways.

he remembered everything; how he’d accidentally bumped to the girl, who had so kindly offered her help to bring him back to his feet and catch the flying papers for his ad statistics class. being too dumbfounded from her manners and appearance, he’d just stood there, mouth agape, hand nervously tugging at the hairs on the nape of his neck as he’d challenged himself to blurt out at least two proper words at her, which of course, he’d failed. she’d only chuckled slightly at his awkwardness before mumbling a cheery ‘see you around!’, leaving him frozen in the middle of the corridor.

timothee recalled having performing a small talk in front of his mirror for two weeks before he finally worked up the courage to tap on her back and smile at her. when her head turned around to see who was it, her hair brushed against his hand, and out of the blue, all of the french and english alphabet died down in his throat as his perfectly normal and human smile turned into a very cheeky and clumsy one. he was sure that within several minutes, there would be sweat marks under the armpits on his shirt. after about fifty seconds of torturous silence, he uttered a quite shaky hi, to which she very tenderly responded, her hand landing on his arm as she affectionately ran it up and down its length to break the tension, but little did she knew that she’d only worsened the situation.

it took them three days to get close.

they started hanging out after drama classes, always sitting together, working their lines, meeting up after school, going to the movies, cooking dinner for each other, spending nights together, staying at each other’s place, etc. at first, it was hard for Timothee to actually believe that not only had he manged to talk to the girl that got him so flustered, but end up being best friends with her, but after a few months, he got pretty much used to it.

her nicknames for him were plenty; tim, timmy, timo – but even teasing ones, like, lil timmy tim and two inches proud. she rarely called him by his full name; only when she was mad or wanted to talk to him about something really serious and important.

their friendship was something he cherished. truthfully, at first he was so afraid of being himself only because he was worried he would do something stupid and ruin everything, thing that didn’t go unnoticed by her. as they were binge watching ‘the office’ at her house once, she’d questioned his strange behavior, which ended up in a long, late night discussion. that night nothing but the truth was told. well… partly. timothee faintly remembered himself falling asleep at some point, waking up with his arms wrapped around her warm body, his legs tangled with hers as she snored quietly, still asleep.

it was funny how his heart seemed to be in the mood to beat as if he’d run a 26.2 miles marathon at seven o’clock in the morning. what was even more hilarious was the fact that he’d sweated over his desperate attempts to untangle himself from her and force his mind to think about anything, literally anything gross, otherwise she would wake up to the feeling of his boner poking her thigh.

all in all, he was pretty much fucked.

we never got the credit

nobody seemed to hear us but we said it

he knew he was in love with her on their first getaway vacation together in paris. they were seventeen, nearing eighteen, and it was a warm august evening with them taking walks at the trocadéro, ice cream cones in their hands as they admired the view of the eiffel tower. she’d suggested going up in the tower, watch the sunset with him and then have dinner at the nearest bistro while watching the eiffel tower light up with thousands of sparkly leds that would make it shine brighter than the stars in the sky. being unable to ever say no to her, timothee was keen on the idea, so they did exactly as she’d said. whilst they were admiring paris’s beauty from the tower, he felt her thumb brushing against his cheek, the outline of his lips and eventually landing on his upper lip. his mouth had parted almost too quickly, which was quite embarrassing, but he seemed to have no control over his body whenever she was around.

“ice cream,” was all she’d given as an explanation, licking her index finger slowly enough to make him want to groan – and he was worried that if she kept being so damn intimate with him, he would soon come in his pants with not the slightest hint of a warning.

that same night, they’d chosen some place called ‘bistrot paul chene’ to have dinner at. timothee wasn’t really hungry, but seeing as it broke him to ever not fulfill any of her favors, he ended up having a small salad and a water, while she’d ordered half of the catalog along with red wine, which pretty much got her drunk immediately. the combination of cinq verres de vin and at least three portions of chicken fillet with vegetables had her throwing up all night in their hotel’s room, timothee holding her hair and rubbing small circles on her back to help her relax.

despite the intense, stinking smell of puke that surrounded her that night, timothee dragged her all the way to the small bedroom, changed her clothes into some clean of his own, laid her in bed, covered her carefully with a blanket, kissed the outline of her hair and let himself linger on the foot of the bed, making sure she would sleep peacefully.

to his surprise, while he was just about to get up from the bed and occupy the couch – which apparently was the only place he could nap at – he heard her softly murmuring his name, so he froze instantly and turned around to check on her, her eyes still closed, but her lips were moving as though she was trying to utter a sentence out, but was unable to.

“everything all right? do you want me to stay a little longer?” he’d asked.

“i love you, timmy,” she’d mumbled, half-asleep, a smile plastered on her face, and within the following few minutes, soft snores of her own were echoing in the small room as timothee tried to get himself to react to her confession. he'd felt a literal roller coaster of emotions; euphoria, vulnerability, fear, back to overwhelming joy. his heart thrummed violently against his rib cage, threatening to pop out of his chest as a newfound warmness ran through his entire body.

he knew. he knew he’d hopelessly fallen for her in a heartbeat, knew he’d been feeling that way ever since his eye first-caught the glimpse of her form wandering around the halls of their high school. knew she felt like his home, knew he would always protect her because he could not stand the thought of her hurting, knew her happiness and welfare would always be above his own. he’d loved her with her positives and her flaws – in fact, it were her flaws that made him love her even more. in other words, he felt like floating every time they were together, which was simultaneously good and bad.

“i love you too,” he’d answered after a total of five minutes of silence and processing.

little did she know that the kind of love he felt for her didn’t quite match hers.

neither of us planned it

and for a long time I took it all for granted

their first fight occurred during the end of their junior year in high school. he’d never felt so bad in his life – hell, he couldn’t even believe how he’d brought himself to act so rude to her. the key word to his abrupt mood swing was jealousy. a very ugly feeling he couldn’t avoid when she started her relationship with her very first boyfriend – some foreign student from a students exchange program. he was polish or from the netherlands, or at least timothee remembered so.

it’d started on a cozy december evening at his place, while the two of them were watching a cliché christmas movie on the tv. she’d asked timothee if he wanted to hang out the following day after school, and if her boyfriend could perhaps come along, thing that had blinded any sign of logical thinking in his head – completely. he’d thrown several bitter comments such as ‘oh, him again’, ‘of course you’re wondering whether he can come along’, ‘do you ever do anything without him for a change?’. she’d been taken aback from his sudden behavior, had attempted to search for the source that released all those copious amounts of antipathy.

“you don’t like my boyfriend?” she’d asked, perplexed.

“it’s not that… i guess he’s just not my favorite person in the planet.”

the sarcastic tone in his voice was what had hurt her the most. never in a million years had she imagined that he’d ever be sarcastic with her, not when he knew that sarcasm was the thing she hated the most after being lied to. “oh my god, i can’t believe this!”

“yeah, well, sorry that not all of us can tolerate his attempt to speak with an american accent. have you ever heard him? he sounds as though he has pneumonia.”

“shut up! do you even hear yourself? you’re acting like a five-year-old! i literally met my boyfriend to my parents seven days after we began dating, but it took me two whole weeks to meet him to you. it’s not like i didn’t care about their approval, but your opinion meant everything to me, and i was so fucking nervous to introduce him to you because i wanted you to like him so bad. and when the two of you finally met and my boyfriend called to tell me how much he’d liked you, i assumed that it went well… but now you’re telling me that it didn’t. it just didn’t but you didn’t fucking think of telling me that for which reasons again?” she’d asked, her voice raising as she’d tried to wrap her mind around the fact that she’d also been lied to.

“when you say it like that it sounds kind of bad.”

“that’s because it is! it is bad, timothee, very bad.”

“it’s not my fault he’s stupid!” he’d raised his voice at her for the very first time in his life that night, and she’d flinched slightly. “i don’t think your boyfriend knows the meaning of dumbass that well.”

“hold up… what?”

it’d been one of those ‘uh oh’ moments for him. “hey, no, no, i’m sorry, i–”

“so not only don’t you like him, but you talked shit about him… in front of him?”

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to–”

“shut up, timothee, there’s no room for excuses now. i think i should get going,” she’d stated before grabbing her coat from the couch, heading to the door, where she stopped momentarily to call out his name. “i think we should stay separate this week.”

his face had dropped in shock, tears had welled in his eyes. “are you saying you don’t want our friendship anymore? please – i’m sorry – i’ll try to like him if that’s what you want–”

“i’m going to force you into being fond of him, tim. all i’m saying is that i'm giving you some time to think, as well as me. i don’t want us quarreling and i think some distance will help us.”

after she’d left, pauline, timothee’s sister, had come downstairs to check if everything was all right, since she’d heard the yelling and shouting from her room. the moment timothee had seen, his knees had buckled and he’d collapsed in her, bawling uncontrollably as he kept muttering to himself how much of an idiot he was. despite the fact that she kept her promise and began hanging out with him again after a week had passed, he felt even more fragile than before, simply for the reason that he’d come just a breath away from losing her and the thought of that was utterly terrifying.

i really thought we had it

but at the time it was more than i could manage, so

he didn’t know how he’d managed.

if timothee thought that a week-lasting argument with her had neared the end of the world, then when he got his heart broken by her for the very first time, it’d felt like the earth had split in two and burst in flames. it wasn’t intentional or anything, it wasn’t even something that should have bothered him that much, but it was valentine’s day and…

… well, he’d proposed that brilliant idea, that plan to confess everything as her secret admirer, to write her a card that would pour his heart out, and afterwards, after gauging her reaction, to tell her that he’d sent it – with candy, of course, not flowers; he knew how strong her sweet tooth was.

he’d spent nearly an entire week of sleepless nights full of discarded drafts before he’d finally found what he’d wanted to say, before he’d had the right words, and it’d been just in time for valentine’s day.

and then the following day at school he’d seen her with the boy she’d been talking to in their english class, and he’d had his hands around her waist and their lips had been nearly touching, and it’d felt like someone had ripped his heart out of his chest and pummeled it with a sledgehammer.

he’d almost considered going to the nurse, claiming he’d been feeling nauseous (which hadn’t really been a lie) and asking if he could leave school early. instead he’d stayed, just never sent the card – he’d shoved it into his bag as though it had personally offended him and headed off to class.

he hadn’t known why, but he’d waited until he’d arrived home to tear the card in two and throw away the remains, and for the rest of the night he hadn’t left his room, claimed that he had some big test he’d needed to study for. that lie hadn’t gone unnoticed by her, who’d come to the chalamet household a couple of days later, turning the lights on to his room, finding him tucked under his covers, the hood of his favorite grey hoodie on top of his head, tears steaming down his cheeks.

she’d felt her heart sink to her stomach.

when his glossy green eyes had found hers, he’d slightly gotten up, attempting to sniffle a few sobs out of the way as his sleeved hand had come up to wipe off the tears that had pricked in the corners of his eyes. she hadn’t hesitated a moment before coming to the bed, wrapping her arms around his frame, which had resulted into him hugging her tightly without a warning, sobbing loudly against her shoulder, gripping onto her sweatshirt for dear life. she’d pulled down the grey hood in order to massage his scalp with one hand, murmuring sweet nonsense against the shell of his ear, not even once bothering to ask what had saddened him so. she’d known that he’d tell her whenever he felt ready.

which pretty much, never happened.

wish i didn’t doubt it

i wish i never ever told you all about it

they were eighteen and freshly graduated from high school when timothee finally confessed his feelings for her. the experience had been much more traumatizing and heartbreaking than he’d imagined – even now, at his twenty-four, he regretted telling her, he wished he could’ve just kept it to himself and save both of them from…

nicole and marc, timothee’s parents, had been so proud of their graduation that they’d decided to gift them a three-day trip to italy, just for their son and her. it was a day before their departure, she was alone at her small apartment (which she shared with her roommate), packing her suitcase for the trip.

he didn’t know how he’d thought that confessing his love for her a day before their big trip would be the greatest and most fitting moment, but he’d grown tired of having to act in real life too, so after several performances in front of his mirror and pauline, he’d come to her apartment, raising his hand to knock on her door. it’d taken him a few minutes to talk himself out from backing away the last minute.

you’re going to hate yourself if you don’t do this now. talk to her. rejection is something that’ll hurt at first, sure, but you’re going to deal with it. you’ll deal with it, he’d thought, finally letting his hand ball into a fist and knock softly on her door. not even a minute later, she’d opened it with a gigantic grin, some of which he recognized to be his sweaters in her hands.

“hey, timo, what a surprise! come help me pack,” she’d said cheerfully, and he’d faked a smile.

“before we do anything, do you think we could go to your room first? i want to talk to you about something quite important that i feel i need to get out of my chest.”

“sure, but you’re sort of scaring me,” she’d replied with a chuckle, leading him in her room as she’d thrown his sweaters in her suitcase, clapping her hands in satisfaction. she’d sat herself on the foot of her bed, patting the spot next to her for him to sit down, which he’d hesitantly done. he’d looked as though he’d been on the verge of crying, which hadn’t gone unnoticed by her, her hands instantly flying up to his face to graze gentle circling-patterns on his cheeks for comfort.

“i just want to say that i hope this decision of mine won’t cost you from my life,” he’d begun, placing his hands on top of hers and bringing them down on his lap, their fingers interlocked as his thumbs pressed softly on the back of her palms. she’d raised her eyebrow at him worriedly, her reassurance that nothing in a million years could cause the end of their friendship coming quick from her lips.

“timmy, what’s wrong? has something happened – are you alright?”

“i don’t know, it’s just…” he’d trailed off, giving himself the chance to chicken out and change the topic in something entirely different, but – “you’re everything. you’re my best friend, the kindest person i’ve ever met, it’s honestly sort of annoying that i personally can’t find a sign of imperfection in you, because even things that about you that you or others consider as flaws – they’re not flaws to me. i wish i could put into words how i feel about you, but that would be impossible because the english vocabulary hasn’t got half as many words as i could use to describe you. beautiful, amazing, caring, i could honestly go on for years…”

“aw, tim, that’s so sweet,” she’d beamed, completely unaware of what he’d been trying to say.

“… i never considered myself to be capable to love someone that much, but you came into my life and proved me wrong for once again. you’ve made me such a better person and i’ll be forever grateful for that. i love you. i’ll never grow tired of telling you how much i love you,” at that moment, he’d started collecting tears in the corners of his eyes, trying hard to keep them back from steaming down his cheeks. “and the reason why it’s hurting me so much is because i know you’ll never love me back.”

“what are you talking about? i do love you back, stupid!”

“nope, not in that way.”

there. he’d said it, he’d finally said it. there was no such thing as relief from finally letting it out.

if anything, it’d just hurt him more than it’d been all those years. the shocked look of eventual realization on her face had crushed his heart because he’d known what was coming. he’d known he’d lost her for good, he’d known she’d been just a minute away from breaking them up as friends. he’d known the whole thing had been pointless and stupid, he’d known that even if he kept saying to himself that he wished he could erase that moment from his head, he’d never truly do it, because he couldn’t regret it, no matter how much he tried to get himself to do so.

“what?”

“i’m in love with you. have been for years, i’m so fucking sorry for not having told you earlier. it was selfish and stupid and i tried to fall out of love with you, but i just couldn’t and–”

“i can’t do this,” she’d gotten up from the bed, her hands running through her hair as she’d impatiently urged timothee to get up as well, leading him to the living room, close to where the door was.

“no, listen, i’m not forcing you into loving me back or anything, i can deal with rejection, i swear to God i can! don’t make me go, please. i’ll give you as much time as you need, but don’t just erase me from your life, it will break me.”

“i’m not in the place… this isn’t… could you just… give me some time? to think?”

“of course,” he’d replied, heading to the door, a million thoughts running through his head as he tried to process the fact that he’d just ruined the only good thing in his life. “just tell me that i haven’t lost you. was it pointless? confessing my love to you? did i gross you out?” he’d asked a moment before walking out of the apartment, tears running on his cheeks, eyes red and stingy.

her response wasn’t immediate as always. he’d known. he’d known what her true answer had been regardless the fact she hadn’t given it to him.

“i don’t know.”

but i just had to let you know

i never meant to hurt you, though

ever since his love confession to her, she hadn’t exchanged a single word with him. she’d ignored all of his texts and calls, had left him waiting at the airport alone (not that he’d expected her to come anyway), crying in front of so many people, his suitcase long forgotten next to him as he’d curled up in a fetal position on his seat, trying to maintain his sobs and the unbearable pain he’d felt.

it was pauline who’d come to find him in that position, alarmed something bad had happened.

they’d gone to italy together, but he’d never even once considered getting out of the hotel, exploring the city, or even eating his feelings away. he’d just stayed in his bed for three days straight, not nearing a plate of food. his eyes had grown tired of crying, yet the tears seemed countless.

he’d lost her over nothing. his best friend, the love of his life. over nothing and everything.

he’d learned from a mutual friend of hers that she’d even changed her college application.

just so that she wouldn’t even have to face him ever again in his life. right when he’d made the decision to get his shit together, he’d found out about that and he’d come so close to depression that his parents had to find him a psychologist to talk to. timothee missed her like crazy in college. her contact was still saved in his phone and he’d spent countless nights looking at it, wondering whether he should’ve called her or not. she made it pretty clear that she doesn’t want you, so stop torturing yourself, his inner voice said every time. you just had to fall in love with your best friend. stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid–

it’s pointless, stop it.

and with that being his last thought almost every night for two months straight, he fell asleep and waited for the next morning to rise, knowing very well that the love of his life was probably living her life as she should be, hanging out with friends, making out with boyfriends, having forgotten about him, which was fine, because that was how a normal person should’ve moved on. instead of him.

i had all my motives

i didn’t know they wouldn’t mix with your emotions

it happened on a cold morning during mid-february. timothee had finished the shootings for ‘little women’ and he’d come back to new york for a couple of days. he was casually hanging out at his favorite bagel shop, when he saw her. she was waiting in the queue, tapping her foot impatiently and checking her clock every three seconds. though it was creepy from his side to act like that, it was as though his heart had stopped momentarily, his eyes staring at her in disbelief.

it had been five years.

his thoughts got interrupted by something hot splashing on his shirt, pouring all the way down to his trousers. “ugh, fuck!” a familiar voice called in frustration, placing her half-empty cup of coffee to the table where timothee was sitting as she grabbed as many napkins as she could and began wiping his shirt neurotically. “fuck, i’m so sorry, it was an accident and this dumbass fell on me, and – timmy?”

ah, yes, one of her many nicknames for him. no matter how long it’d been ever since he heard that nickname falling out of her lips, it never failed to make his heart flutter. her eyes where blown in shock as he gazed up at her, awe-struck, as if there wasn’t any scorching coffee all over his clothes.

finally regaining his consciousness, he grabbed some of the napkins she was holding and wiped his sweater. her mouth was still agape and she seemed unable to move – had he killed her?

“hey! oh my god, it’s been so long,” he beamed with the best smile he could muster, getting up from his seat and helping her with her coffee. “how’s life? we haven’t talked for ages.”

“i…” she trailed off, not knowing what to say. she glanced down at his coffee-covered clothes for a second and slapped her forehead with the back of her palm. “i’m doing good, yeah. hey, since i’ve probably ruined your amazing outfit, would you like to come over to my place? i mean, you can’t walk around the city like that and it’d also be a nice chance to catch up, right?” she offered, receiving the brightest and truest grin he’d smiled those past five years.

find an excuse and refuse kindly.

she broke you.

you’re doing it again, you’re letting her break you.

RUN OUT OF THAT PLACE IMMEDIATELY.

don’t do this to yourself.

say something came up.

don’t–

“i would absolutely love that.”

i just had to reach my goals

never knew i’d meet you though, so

they arrived at her apartment quicker than he thought. it was quite close to the bagel shop, meaning basically no one on the way stopped him for any autographs or photos, which was pretty much a blessing sent by god since it would’ve been mortifying if anyone noticed the huge coffee stains on his clothes. she hurriedly opened the door and let him in, showing him around the living room and telling him to hang on there for a second.

“wait, how am i supposed to change, though? i’m not sure your clothes will fit me,” timothee said.

“yeah, i don’t think that’d be a problem, since…” she blushed a deep crimson color and fiddled with the hem of her blouse. “… i still have some of your sweaters and sweatpants.”

“oh,” was all he muttered. flashbacks from that one day came into his mind, his heart twisting in a comb – was it too hot in the room? how was he supposed to react? what could he say? discomfort was evident in both of their faces as they avoided eye contact with each other.

“um, i’m just gonna fetch you a sweater and some cleans pants, hold up,” she said after a moment, thankfully being the bravest one and breaking that super loud silence. she came back in the living room, holding a black sweater and a pair of grey sweatpants of his. timothee let his mind wonder how many times she’d slept wearing his clothes, thing that was sort of unhealthy due to… well.

he smiled and thanked her kindly, heading into her bathroom as he got changed.

she, on the other hand, went into her room and immediately opened the sliding glass door which led to the balcony patio. a strong gush of wind was blown into the room, and she felt her hair rise and fall to the rhythm of the elevated breeze. she leaned down, resting her arms on the railing and taking in the view of the neighborhood. from behind her, she heard the door slowly creak open, however didn’t bother to turn around and see who it was. timmy silently came up next to her, also resting his arms on the balcony’s railing. rather than looking down and admiring the view of the small neighborhood, he just started straight ahead. he slowly turned his head, an action that she mirrored until their eyes met.

“i was nothing but a complete ass to you that day, tim,” she said after letting out a deep, loud sigh. “i should’ve talked to you, i shouldn’t have acted the way i did. i can imagine how heartbreaking it must’ve been for you to just wait and wait for any response of mine only to find out that you weren’t getting one. actually, no, i can’t imagine how painful that must’ve been because i’d be a hypocrite if i said i did. you deserved so much better than me, i was a terrible friend,” she continued, tears brimming in her eyes as her gaze dropped down at her shoes, too ashamed to look him in the eye.

timmy opened his mouth to say something, but the words died down in his throat as he did so. he remembered how hard he’d cried, how he’d lost his appetite for fucking weeks – she’d broken him.

“it’s fine, it wasn’t your fault.”

“no, it was, stop saying it wasn’t,” she said a little louder. “i fucking transferred! i didn’t go to the college of my dreams because i thought it’d be too hard to see you in the hallways – who the fuck does that? name a decent person that does that and then i’ll agree with you; that it wasn’t my fault. oh, sweet little me, everybody loves me,” she mocked herself, wiggling her hands in the air, “if only they knew how selfish i’ve been, how unfair. you didn’t deserve to be treated the way i treated you.”

letting out a loud breath, he walked up behind her, wrapping his woolen jacket (that wasn’t coffee-stained) around her shoulders, giving her a back hug. he wrapped his arms around her stomach from behind, and rested his chin on her shoulder as she placed her hands on his.

“i haven’t stopped thinking about that day, timmy,” she murmured softly against his cheek. he sighed and she turned around, breaking away from the warmth that engulfed her, instantly regretting it.

“that exaggeration that everyone talks about; the feeling of your heart getting stabbed repeatedly with a shard of glass when someone doesn’t reciprocate your emotions… i felt that,” timothee began after a minute, his hands still holding hers. “you imagined a potential with someone, you put your heart on your sleeve, only for them to break it in pieces. i’m not going to lie to you since that’s not what you want. it was painful, alright? it felt as though my world was falling apart, and every fiber of my being was torn to shreds along with it. i cried for months, didn’t eat properly, i missed classes. i couldn’t stop thinking about the way you’d just asked me to leave. i didn’t want you to feel the same way, i would never force anyone into falling in love with me just so that i wouldn’t feel heartbroken, but man, i imagined yelling, throwing stuff or just sitting shook on the couch, not being able to utter the slightest hint of a sentence, but not even saying a single word to me for five years?”

he’d started tearing up at that point.

“five whole years, i kept waiting for your text or your call – or just anything that would signal your existence in this planet. i’ve never loved anyone half as much as i’ve loved you.”

“i was ashamed to talk to you,” she admitted after a moment. “so ridiculously ashamed. like, what could’ve i said to you? oh, hey, timothee, it’s me, the girl that left you like that! chile, anyway so, do you want to grab a coffee with me? i feel terrible for breaking your heart, by the way. believe me, there hasn’t been a day i haven’t thought about you. when i lost you, i lost a part of me, too. i lost the part of me that was motivating me to be a better person.” her grip tightened and she brought his hands to her lips, pressing a surprisingly soft kiss on his knuckles. “i’m so sorry, timmy. really, i could spend years apologizing to you and it wouldn’t just heal the wound i created.”

“do you think we could, like… i don’t know, have a fresh start or something? i know i’d love that,” timothee suggested out of the blue, her eyes shooting up to hold his gaze for a seconds as she nodded vigorously in response, a smile of relief breaking on her face; she was glowing. not being able to resist himself, he mirrored her smile and nodded as well, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly.

“i missed you so much, timmy,” she said against his shoulder, her voice coming out muffled.

“i missed you even more.”

“so, should we meet up tomorrow? bagel shop? or dinner? or movie at my place?”

“what about bagel takeout from the best bagel place in the world and movie at my place at 7?”

“it’s a date,” she smiled an ear-to-ear grin, which made his heart flutter and skip a beat.

“it’s a date.”

we should stick together

you’re my best friend, i’ll love you forever (would you come with me?)

they were sitting on the couch, eating their cream cheese bagels while watching a movie timmy had chosen – one that he recalled having watched with her the time they had their first sleepover at his house. he tried hard to focus on the tv and not think about how close to him she was, practically snuggled up against his chest, her hands resting on his lap as they knees were touching.

“this feels so great, timo,” she said at some point, looking up at him with a sweet smile.

“couldn’t agree more,” he replied, leaning down to peck her hair. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to–”

“shush you, it’s okay.”

butterflies erupted in his stomach as he attempted to scooch her back on her side of the couch, claiming he needed some water, and oh how he’d so simply returned to his teenage years, where he would just pop a boner out of anything. don’t, don’t, don’t, he mentally hissed at himself, wanting to prevent the mortification of getting hard in front of her.

“timmy, you’re missing the best part!” she called from the living room, her head slightly hanging from the cushions as she motioned him to get back on the couch. “and i’m missing my pillow.”

“looks like i never stopped being your pillow after all,” he laughed.

“mm, no boyfriend of mine could replace you.”

oh.

timmy’s stomach went into full butterfly mode. his face turned red and his heart began practicing the plop it would made when it would finally burst out of his chest. where was nicholas sparks to write his great love story? fuck hormones. he really wasn’t in the place to go back to fifteen.

“uh, sorry, i didn’t – this came out wrong. i didn’t mean for it to come out like that,” she stumbled after noticing the evident crimson on his cheeks and slight discomfort. timmy tried to reassure her that everything was fine – though it really wasn’t – and returned his attention to the movie on tv (but without knowing that neither of them were watching it anymore.)

“no, i mean, yeah, i know,” he stammered.

“can i ask you something? i need you to be honest with me, though.”

“of course.”

her eyes flickered down to his lips for a moment, and he had to think about rotten vegetables and spilled noodles in order to prevent himself for having a freaking cardiac arrest.

“that day… did you go to the airport? did you wait for me? be honest.”

hesitation. silence. both of those spoke louder than actual words. “yeah.”

“i knew so,” she whispered before giving him the warmest hug he’d received from someone in years. her arms snaked around his torso, her face buried in the crook of his neck, moving it to the side slightly to plant small, short pecks on his cheeks, one of her hands coming up to caress his curls. “i’m sorry.”

(it would get you so)

we could be the greatest, it doesn’t matter if we’re never rich or famous

“mr. laurie laurence, i respectfully bow,” she joked after ‘little women’ came to an end, the lights in the theater turning on as voices began filling the room. timmy had brought her with him to watch the premiere, which she’d so much loved. she’d even cried when jo rejected laurie’s proposal, though she’d already read the book and knew it was coming. she couldn’t help but admire timothee’s talent, how good he’d portrayed laurie. she’d even met saoirse ronan, the fucking legend.

“i take it as you liked it?” timmy asked with a playful smirk, nudging her shoulder.

“liked it? man, i absolutely adored it! you’re such a great actor, timo, i’m so freaking proud of you!” she squealed, giving him a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek. it’d been about two months since their friendship got renewed, which was both perfect and terrible, since he’d found himself falling in love with her all over. not that he’d ever really stopped loving her anyway.

“i’ve arranged a bagel meeting with saoirse at the usual place. wanna come along? i have a feeling you’re her new favorite bestie,” timmy chuckled as he pointed at saoirse still sitting on her chair, waving at the two of them with a huge grin plastered on her face.

“oh gosh, yes, that’d be amazing.”

not even twenty minutes later, she was sitting next to timothee in their booth as saoirse kept asking her questions about how he was as a teenager, if he had more rap songs than his biggest and most known bop ‘statistics’, and things like those. she also wanted to learn things about their friendship (such as how it’d started, etc.) which was sort of uncomfortable, since neither her or timmy wanted to tell her about the fact that she’d… well. avoiding and dodging a couple of her questions, she ended up telling her about each and every one of the school plays he did in high school. little did she know she was looking awe-struck whilst she passionately described to saoirse his acting performances, not missing a single detail. it even slipped from her mouth that she’d watched his ‘prodigal son’ play at manhattan, which had caught timmy by surprise.

“you came to ‘prodigal son’?” he asked, mouth slightly agape.

“couldn’t miss it for the world.”

“but it was three or four years ago. thought… i thought we weren’t…”

“you weren’t what?” saoirse asked, sensing they’d been hiding something from her.

“nothing!” Timothee urged, not letting her speak as his hand landed on her knee, squeezing it tightly in order to stop her from saying anything. “nothing, it’s nothing important.”

“i specifically do not believe you, but it seems like neither of you are comfortable with discussing it, so i’ll drop it. for now,” Saoirse threatened with a wink, noticing that both her and timmy’s cheeks had turned into a light shade of pink as they awkwardly exchanged nervous glances.

“so, um, did you like it? the play?”

“yes, it was mesmerizing. your performance, it was…” she trailed off and it seemed as though she’d let her mind wander to something else momentarily, “… it was stunning. you have a freaking gift, tim, your acting skills are truly inspiring. i’m so, so proud of you, my beautiful boy,” she said sweetly, cupping his cheeks with her hands and giving him a forehead kiss that nearly caused him to choke on his own damn saliva.

“you guys seem like you really love each other,” saoirse commented with a smirk.

“stop it, saoirse, you’re not playing it matchmaker today!” timothee hissed at her, only earning a chuckle from his friend that wiggled her eyebrows smugly. “this is so embarrassing, i’m sorry about her, she can be like that sometimes.”

“it’s fine, it’s not even embarrassing, don’t worry.”

high all the time, high all the time

i wanna be high all the time

Would you come with me?

five months had passed ever since they went back to being best friends. they were spending their evening together at timmy’s place, he’d cooked pizza and some sort of burnt chocolate cake that thankfully was kinda eatable. it was his first attempt into trying to cook dinner for someone, so he ended up getting nervous and almost lighted his house on fire – but it was worth everything once he saw the amused expression on her face, that giant smile of hers that had the power to make his day in a heartbeat, and of course, the bombardment of kisses he received from her.

“man, the sixteen-year-old inside me is screaming right now,” she said enthusiastically, bearing with eating some of the cake just so that she wouldn’t make him sad. “also, this thing tastes better than it looks like, i promise.”

“mmm, you might as well quit lying, i tried it myself a few minutes ago and gagged.”

“i swear, timmy, it’s not that terrible!” she laughed, slapping his shoulder playfully.

“whatever you say,” he replied, slapping her back. “so, um, why is the sixteen-year-old inside you screaming?”

“because of this,” she pointed at the food, “you, us.”

timothee’s heartbeat quickened and he looked down, letting out a weak chuckle. how ironic…

“why did you keep my clothes?”

the question slipped his mouth and she stopped chewing on the cake, frozen. her eyes traveled up and scanned his for a second. she gulped and shrugged her shoulder, clicking her tongue. “i don’t know, i guess it was the only thing remaining from you. some of your sweaters still smell like you, which sounds weird and creepy. i have this black one of yours that has mickey mouse faces all over it, it’s adorable. you were wearing it when we went to paris, when we went to the louvre. sometimes i still like to wear your clothes because they give me those feels of warmth and comfort. plus, i’ve cried endless nights on them, so they’re now my property. don’t even consider trying to get them back.”

at that point, his heart had leapt out of his chest.

he didn’t even know what to say, how to reply to her – the english vocabulary seemed way too poor to describe what he felt for once more. though it was seemingly unhealthy for him to think like that, he couldn’t help that tiny amount of hope that had formed into him, hope that there was still another chance to… no.

“stop eating that cake, you’re gonna get sick,” was all he said, reaching to grab the fork from her hands as she continued to stuff her mouth with the burnt dessert. she shook her head negatively and proceeded to get the fork back from him.

“i want to go to the living room,” she said, gulping down the last piece of the cake victoriously.

“watch a movie with me?”

“no, i just wanna go to the living room.”

“okay…” timmy replied with uncertainty. the two of them got up from their seats and sat themselves on the couch, where she crawled to timmy’s side, arms wrapped around his waist, her head placed on his chest (she could hear how fast his heart was beating against her ear, which made her smile a little). he was hesitant at holding her, his whole body stiff, arms glued to his sides.

“hug me back, tim, i don’t bite.”

he did as she said, all the worries and fears disappearing the moment he let himself inhale the intoxicating smell of her rose oil and peach shampoo that nearly drove him to the edge. he let his eyes close for a few seconds, daydream about how his seventeen-year-old self would have gotten a hard-on instantly if something like that had happened a few years ago.

“are you smelling my hair?” she asked, making him freeze, mortified.

“i…”

“didn’t mean for it to come out like that, it’s okay, you can smell my hair.”

she snuggled even closer to his chest and raised her chin up to look at him. her beautiful eyes caught his gaze. she muttered a soft ‘timmy’, it came out like a whisper, but she noticed that his ears perked up, biting the inside of his lip. he stared at her for a second, before turning towards the ceiling and then back to her. his eyes flickered down to her lips, and she felt her heart jump into her throat. though it was only for a brief second, it was obvious enough for her to understand what he wanted.

“i like it when you call me that,” he spoke after a moment. timothee shifted a little, leaning towards her, his thumb grazing against her neck. her eyes closed, the rest of her senses heightened as his nose brushed against hers, then his forehead. neither of them knew how they got there exactly, but it wasn’t like they cared anyway. her hands came up to the back of his neck, almost playing with his curls, and there was a moment where he leaned in, their lips almost touching. he was chewing on his bottom lip like he was holding himself back, but then he just closed his eyes and buried his face on the crook of her neck.

“timothee hal chalamet,” she said sternly, her hands cupping his cheeks and bringing his face back to its previous position, his breath was feathery against her lips, and she sighed longingly, leaning in closer. all rational thought was gone, all that mattered was timothee, his eyes, his mouth, the way he was looking at her like he had never wanted anything as much as he wanted to kiss her.

leaning in closer, the smell of him surrounding her, she placed a very soft kiss to his lips, closing her eyes again and putting her hand on his face. he slid one hand slowly up her thigh, pressing closer and applying more pressure to her mouth. they stayed still for a few seconds, breathing each other in before begging to move. he kissed her slowly, so very slowly, his movements tentative and full of desire. his other hand encircled her waist to tug her closer, and she sighed against his mouth. timmy shuddered at the sound he made, pulling away from the kiss, staring at her, his lips damp with saliva.

“mmm, wait, wait, hold up,” he groaned, eyes still closed as he cupped her cheeks, bringing her back to his eye level. “what’s happening? what are we doing?”

she scanned his gaze for a second and tilted her head to the side. “okay, here goes nothing,” she took a deep breath and caressed his cheek as timothee leaned into her touch. “i’m in love with you, timmy. i think i’ve always loved you, i was just too scared to admit it to myself or something, which is not an excuse, and i’m a fucking piece of shit, honestly. when you said you loved me, it rocked my world. i was too shook and pushed you away, so… i don’t think i deserve you. at all.”

“hey, no, don’t say that,” he cut her off softly, running his fingers through her hair.

“it’s true, though, you deserve so much better than me.”

“you,” he squished her cheeks together, her lips now looking as though they were posing for a duck face photo, and gave her a quick kiss. “i never stopped loving you. and don’t put yourself down like that, you may have broken my heart once, but that belongs to the past. i want you to be my boyfriend and i’ll be your girlfriend – shit, no, i didn’t say that right – i want us to be in a relationship. i love you so much and it’d mean the world to me if you let me be your boyfriend.”

she chuckled and kissed him forcefully and with purpose this time. he kissed her back eagerly, daring her to take it further. she groaned, unable to hold it back, and slipped her tongue slowly into his mouth. the two of them grew closer together as time seemed to fade away. before either of them knew it, timmy’s hand had traveled up her shirt, as hers was tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck.

both of them shared shaky breaths as he slowly curved his hand around her breast, his touch was as light as a feather, and she placed her hand on top of his, silently giving him the okay to feel her. soon enough, his hands were adorned on her hips, both of their lips already swollen from making out.

“i don’t know why this took me so damn long,” she whispered after breaking the kiss.

“but it’s finally happening,” timothee added with a smile.

“it is,” she kissed him again, just a small peck on the lips. “are you ever going to forgive me? truly?”

“in fact you haven’t noticed…” he murmured quietly against her neck, where he’d buried his head, peppering soft kisses at the length of it, “…i’ve forgiven you a long time ago.”

if you can just let me know if it’s okay

to call you when i’m lonely

FIN.