𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 • 🖤 • 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐭

XX - no choice

Lorenzo strolled into Amelie's life like an easy summers night. Tall, tanned and handsome he was confident and sensitive. He spoke to Amelie like she was the most fascinating creature he'd ever met.

He was all grins and suave, he dressed well and drove Amelie around to small little caves where the sun brushed over the sea. They would talk until the sun turned into a moon and stars flickered over the golden skin in that wonderful way.

But when Amelie closed her eyes in the sun the gaze that haunted her eyelids was one of Autumn. T very much consumed her in ways she was not proud of. When Lorenzo called her name it was beautiful in that thick Italian accent but nevertheless it was the New York one she couldn't get out of her head.

She thought of Timothée and how he looked on that boat with Lily. How he was so certainly in love with somebody else.

She couldn't blame him, and she didn't, but she did miss him so terribly much.

And when they went out into the evenings she caught glimpses of his dark hair in every man. Yet she enjoyed Lorenzo's company and didn't think too much of any severity in their relationship.

They had fun together, and that was all she really needed, for now.

But then something wickedly cruel happened. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right. But it did happen.

A photo of Lorenzo and Amelie, kissing on the beach made its way into the papers. And one dreadful night her phone rang with a voice she'd never be able to shake.

"Why did you run?" She heard his words before she couldn't even understand how they were now talking from such different lands.

"Timothée?" She asked.

"Oh great, now you don't even remember my voice. Yes it's me."

"Why have you called?" She sighed.

He could hear how different she sounded and it killed him. It really did. She was so so distant. They weren't the way they had ever been.

"Because you ran away with some fucking Italian guy, and now I'm so confused!" He yelled.

"Why do you care?" She laughed bitterly.

She was alone in her hotel room. Painting her toe nails red. She was already late to meet Harlow and Lorenzo.

"I don't!" He laughed back. That was mean. Just cruel do to that.

"So why did you call me?" She slurred a little, she was tipsy.

"Because I thought I missed you," she felt tears welling in her eyes, "but I don't think I even know you enough to."

"Fuck you!" She yelled.

"No fuck you, Amelie!" He yelled back.

"No you listen to me, what am I supposed to do? Wait around for you? Watch you and Lily be in love? No, fuck you and fuck you and fuck you right back."

"Oh you're such an idiot! I swear to god Amelie, do you think anybody's going to take you seriously? After all you're doing!" He sounded like he was almost enjoying this.

How could he enjoy this?

"I can't believe you're doing this..." her voice wavered.

"What am I doing?" He asked.

"You're breaking my heart." Her voice broke mid sentence. It cut his soul in two so deeply, such a terrible and awful wound to hear that girl like that.

"You're too young." He whispered.

Amelie hung up the phone. She couldn't hear it anymore, she couldn't do this anymore. It wasn't fair to her or Lily.

So months past like they had before with no word from T. She had grown now, she didn't trust men and she wouldn't she decided until they proved themselves.

She went home to Paris and spent the rest of the summer with Harlow who didn't ask questions.

And then Xavier called, the release date of the film was approaching and Amelie had her heart set on getting her name out there with now attachment to boys.

The Met Gala was on the horizon and Amelie's invite came and stayed on her desk where she would return to it every so often.

"You really have to go Amelie." Harlow told her. "You can't hide forever."

"I'm not hiding!" Amelie snapped. "I'm sorry," she corrected herself, "I just don't know what to do." She sighed.

Harlow hugged her. "You'll go, we'll go. Together. Two young women changing the world - what better statement than that?" She kissed her head.

"Timothée will be there." Amelie quipped nervously.

"He doesn't matter Amelie, he really doesn't." Harlow sighed as they sat cross legged on Amelie's floor. "Some people come into your life with lessons to teach and that can be all."

Amelie looked at the rug, she thought of how she had been sat in the exact same position and in the exact same place with T. And she knew Harlow was wrong but all she could do was nod along.

Because she knew, as much as she tried to escape it, what had happened with that man could never be for nothing. And she suspected that he knew the exact same thing too.

And perhaps that was the very reason that made him so scared to lose her but too scared to be with her.

"Okay." Amelie agreed. So Harlow went about going through designers that had contacted them.

"Miu Miu." Amelie decided and Harlow shrieked with delight.

"Yes!" Harlow grinned clapping her hands.

For the first time in a very long while Amelie slept that night and didn't dream of Timothée's hateful voice but rather the opposite.

She dreamt of him calling her Miel once more. And in the morning she woke up and she knew, she just knew that she would look so gorgeous that he'd have no choice but to fall in love with her.