SFW Timothee Chalamet and Reader Imagines

Worry Me

Info - poor mental health, guilt, comfort, dirty house

"Mon amour!" I called out excitedly, but when I entered the house I was surprised. It wasn't that I needed a sparkling clean house, but the dishes, take out trash, and other paraphernalia was stacked high. I continued walking. Piles of dirty laundry and clean laundry laid around, nothing folded. I was getting worried.

I got a little more positive when I saw some of her books out, but the bookmarks were all at about page ten. I saw her paint out, but the paint palette was all dried with paint, she obviously hadn't used it in ages.

Finally, I made it upstairs and I saw her in a bundle of covers. Her eyes were swollen, and she looked so sad.

"Hey baby," I whispered. My heart ached when she looked up at me, she looked so ashamed but she didn't need to feel that way.

"I'm sorry, I would tell myself I would do it, and then I didn't and I felt horrible. It just kept happening," she said and then was choked with sobs.

"My darling girl," I sighed. I pried the cocoon off her so I could slip in with her. I held her close and kissed her neck.

"Sweetness, it's okay. You should have told me you were feeling so down."

"Didn't want to worry you," she murmured, and kissed my hands that held her.

"Worry me next time," I begged. "Please worry me."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop being sorry and start resting baby. Tomorrow I'll work on it and if you feel up to helping, if not you can give me a kiss when I'm finished," I said, nuzzling my face into her neck.

"Fuck you're amazing," she sighed.