𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 • 🖤 • 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐭

XVI - one could only dream

6 months later

Paris

"Hey Amelie! Amelie! We need you on set!" The runner knocked on her trailer door as she sat in hair and makeup reading her lines.

Her hair coiffed into a Hepburn-esque up do and dressed in a vintage 60s canary yellow a-line mini dress with golden buttons on the pockets. Pale yellow tights and white kitten heels. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror, she loved her character Francis.

Francis was a head-strong Parisian, showing T's character (Paul) around the city. It was much like real life to them, their chemistry brimming with lust.

Walking onto the set, she saw T dressed in his tweed suit and brogues. He looked dapper, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He turned and smiled at the girl in her white fur coat and small handbag. The set was magical.

Old signs and Wes's vision of 60s Paris creating a hue of muted tones leaving Amelie to attract all attention in al her colour.

"Ya ready?" He asked, his eyes brushing up and down her as she turned to the lighting guy who gave her a thumbs up. She nodded, a custom now very much acquainted with the two.

He often stole those brooding glances at her especially in the first sunshine of Spring.

They began to shoot as unbeknownst to them, the fake rain started pouring down on them. They looked up and grinned at each other.

T, improvising immediately - grabbed one of the extra's umbrellas from them and shoved his prop money into the actor's lapel.

They laughed as he was yelled at in French, and he struggled to open it to cover her. They walked side by side, his arm extended to hold the umbrella over her.

"Come here, you're going to get soaked!Francis laughed and pulled Paul by his arm under cover.

"I don't mind." He shook his head in that wonderful New York accent.

"Yes well, I do. Come on, I need a coffee, we should be able to wait this out." They say at one of the set Cafe's under the cover. The rain still pouring over it, creating a veil as you watched them chatting and flirting.

They were enchanting together, you couldn't help but watch. The way he looked at her was the way all girls wanted to be looked at. The way she spoke to him was the way one could only dream of being spoken to.

Later, Amelie returned to her apartment that her mother had put her up in to do school work online. She sat in a white t-shirt and satin knickers. Her hair pulled back into a clip and she opened the window to look down below as people scuttled into the Friday night.

She sighed. She missed her friends terribly, having seen them last in January and March never felt quite right without a friend to talk to.

She shut her laptop, her eyes straining from the light and turned on her record player. Chet Baker's voice swallowing up the silence.

She floated around the rooms to his voice, twirling and giggling at herself and her exhaustion. She heard a knock at the door.

Looking through the peep-hole she saw a distorted fish-eye face of Timothée.

She swung the door open, keeping her body behind it - aware of her lack of lower body clothing.

"Hey Timmy." She grinned.

She didn't call him T anymore and he instinctively did not call Amelie - Miel. Not to her face at least, she had over heard him refer to her with the nickname on the phone to god knows who.

Amelie prayed those phone calls weren't always to Lily-rose. Not that she didn't like his girlfriend, she just knew it wasn't like they would ever be friends.

He held up a bottle of wine and a brown paper bag.

"Bonjour." He smiled. She held up a finger and his smile dropped.

"One second, would you mind, um - turning around for me one second?" He did as instructed. "You can come in don't stand out there!" She called rushing to her chaise lounges to wrap on her robe.

"Okay, you sure? Just to be careful."

She laughed as he entered her flat walking backwards almost stumbling on her welcome mat.

He held up his hands. "You decent?" He asked.

"Mhmm, you can turn around." He did as he was told, again as she flourished her arms.

She grabbed the wine from him and he followed her into the kitchen were she struggled to reach the shelf of her glasses.

Timothée chuckling at her struggle, extending his arm to reach over head when she jumped onto the counter and bought them down.

She grinned at him and he shook his head smiling.

"See!" She waved the glass of wine in front of his wine.

They sat crossed legged on her carpet listening to the vinyl together as T noticed how all her candles seemed to be lit every night.

It was romantic and they both knew it.

"So what's up? What's on your mind?" She asked getting up to bring plates and cutlery for their meal.

"Do I have to have something on my mind to see you?" He called to her in the kitchen.

She leant on the counter. "Hmm." She mused. "No, but you always seem to when you come here."

She walked over to him. "So, what's up?" She asked handing him a plate.

"Oh nothing much. Just thoughts, as always." He ran a hand through his hair after dishing up Amelie her pasta.

"Penny for them?" She tilted her head to the side.

How could he say it?

"I just thought you might want to know that Lily and I are,"

She held her hand up to stop him and interrupted. "Timmy," she smiled - he did not he hated when she called him that, "I know."

He waited for her to say something. She looked up at him and shrugged. "Oh come on, you're not very good at hiding anything."

If only you knew, he thought, what I'm trying to hide all the time.

"Okay, well she's coming out to visit next week." He nodded.

She nodded back and they went back to their meal. Eating in awkward silence, the only thing interfering in the tension being the music.