Timothèe Chalamet Imagines

☆nail polish☆

Your POV

I glide the cherry red paint over each nail, making sure there are no imperfections before applying a second coat.

Rain pours outside behind me; I'm sitting in our apartment's kitchen, slowly nodding my head to the beat of Bob Dylan while painting my nails. We're having a kind of lazy rainy day today. Timothée is taking a nap in the living room, and this morning we just laid on the couch and read books. I'm trying to zone out for a while and think of nothing but the music, the soothing sound of light rain against the window behind me, and the perfect glossy finish on my nails.

"What are you doing?"

Timothée's voice startles me and I accidentally swipe the small brush onto my finger, missing my nail completely. He's standing in the kitchen doorway in a black hoodie and matching sweats - somehow looking more beautiful than ever in the gray lighting that filters through the window.

"Painting my nails and ignoring life's problems," I tell him with a grin, holding up my now smudged left hand.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." He walks over to the sink and dampens a paper towel, handing it to me.

"No, it's totally fine. And I don't need that - I have this," I tell him. I hold up my cotton balls and nail polish remover. He tosses the damp towel on the counter and sits at the table next to me. His elbows rest on the table and he places his face in both of his hands, watching me gently remove the paint from my finger.

We sit in silence for a while, just listening to Bob Dylan and the sound of rain as I finish painting my nails. He keeps his eyes completely focused on my hands, tapping his fingers to the beat of the music against his cheek. I love moments like these with Timothée; most of the time we could talk forever, but there are times when we just relish the silence and enjoy each other's physical presence.

I start putting the bottles back, sad that I have nothing else to distract myself with for the time being. I need more slightly mindful and relaxing 'tasks' to get my mind off of everything that's going on in the world and in my own life at work.

"Will you do mine?" Timothée asks, when I start putting the nail polish back into the box.

"Sure," I tell him with a small grin. "Which colors?"

He looks for a while, his long fingers picking up different bottles and reading their names.

"These are weird but awesome names... 'Sangria Red'.... 'Pink-ing of You'... 'Test of Thyme'? Who comes up with this stuff?" he asks, furrowing his brows as he reads each bottle.

"I don't know, but honestly I'd love that job."

He sifts through the colors a bit longer - I have quite a large collection - before choosing two.

"Can you do these?" he asks me. One is a light, teal color, and the other a dark blue.

"Yeah, sure," I tell him. He lays his hands flat on the kitchen table in front of him and I take the two colors, starting with the light teal on his thumb.

My favorite part of this is getting to hold each of his fingers as I paint his nails. As I'm painting his ring finger with the dark blue color, I get distracted by how beautiful his hands are for a moment. They're so long and dexterous, and he always wears the most beautiful rings. Today a simple golden band wraps his index finger, and a chain-like golden ring sits around his ring finger.

"What?" he asks.

I hadn't realized that I paused in mid-air, just holding his fingers in mine and staring at him. Instantly embarrassment flashes through me and I shake my head, snapping back to reality.

"Nothing."

I continue to paint his nails, and while we let them dry before putting on a clear-coat, we turn up the music and dance around the kitchen, singing along and carelessly indulging in Bob Dylan.

When I've finished the clear coat, he smiles at me and leans over, kissing me lightly.

"Thank you," he says, pulling away with a grin and staring down at his nails.

"No problem - that was fun. I like them. Nail polish looks good on you," I tell him.

OKAY TOMORROW I FIND OUT IF I MADE IT INTO UC BERKELEY AND I AM EXTREMELY STRESSED OUT. I know I'll go where I was meant to and whatever but this means so much to me and I've put so much work into school and I will be absolutely heartbroken if I don't make it. it will be my last straw. I don't know if I can handle that rejection. I find out about Northwestern on Friday and NYU hopefully sometime next week but oml I am sort of freaking out.

also DID YOU SEE TIMMY'S NAILS IN THOSE PICS AHHH THEY BOTH LOOKED SO CUTE BUT HIS NAILS they were so amazing