Timothée Chalamet imagines

{Dusk}

You took a deep breath as you enter your new apartment that was on the eighth floor in Paris. You pushed the last few suitcases into the bedroom before flopping down on the fluffy white bed. You look out of the window to watch the fairy floss clouds move slowly; it wasn't long till you slowly slipped into slumber.

Early in the morning, the sun was already blazing hot, you're dashing around your apartment getting ready for work. Your company had a branch here in Paris so naturally you took the opportunity to move out of the country and explore; to explore to world around you and to live your life a little more. You sit out at the balcony chewing on a piece of jam toast observing the others starting their day too. It was like a good dream at the moment.

As you arrive at work, you rushed to get ready for a meeting, you introduced yourself and the rest of the day you spent time doing paperwork and typing them up. You were able to meet some really nice and welcoming co-workers which made you feel less lonely in this new city.

Before heading back to your apartment, you made a quick stop to the local café craving for a freshly baked croissant and hot coffee. You could smell the fresh pastries 'round the corner. It was quite busy as you enter, there are people of all ages; school children, office workers, doctors and mothers with their cute little babies in prams, some crying for affection.

You unlock your apartment door, slipping off the block heels that were killing your toes, unbuttoned your blazer and tossing it on the couch, untucked your blouse from your pants and settling at the balcony chair before biting into the crispy pastry and sipping on the caramelly coffee. You people watch once again, wondering where they are all going. You shifted your gaze up admiring the yellow-orange clouds and the Eiffel Tower in the distance. You close your eyes, listening to the sounds surrounding you; slowly falling asleep. A strong distasteful aroma made your eyes open; you turn in the direction of the smell.

A young man, probably your age was leaning on the banister, elbow propped up with a cigarette in-between his fingers whilst his other arm rested draping over the banister a bit. His curly brown hair danced in the warm summer breeze. He wore jeans with a brown cardigan. You sigh, got up and went back inside. You made dinner and lunch for tomorrow. You had a bubble bath and got ready for bed, allowing it to engulf you before drifting off.

Once again you rushed around your apartment getting ready for work. You were at your desk, doing your paperwork and filing documents when someone came to your desk "hey sexy, I'm Aaron" this blue eyed, honey blonde, muscular man extended his hand towards you "(y/n) and please don't call me that" you said with some annoyance in your voice, he smirked "just calling things as I see it" you stare at him, internally groaning "can I help you?" "wanna have lunch with me mama?" "no thank you, I've got work to do and don't make nicknames for me" he didn't say anything but gave you a wink before walking off making you cringe on the inside.

This thing Aaron was doing happened throughout the week and each day you dreaded going to work because you knew this guy was gonna try to hit on you and call you 'mama' nearly every time he was addressing you and not respecting the boundaries you're trying to make.

You sit at the balcony as the sun was starting to set and groan out loud whilst rubbing your eyes "rough day at work?" a gentle voice travelled to you, you look to your right, the young man you saw a week ago lifted his hand "try week" you swivel your body towards him "hit me" he says with a small smile and for some reason you lay all your frustrations of Aaron to a complete stranger but it really helped you to get the weight off your chest.

"This guy needs a good punching" he shakes his head "it's like you have to physically draw up boundaries for this idiot" you chuckle "I wouldn't go as far as to punch him but shit, it's so annoying and creepy" you take your hair clip out, combing your hair out with your fingers "really creepy" he adds "it's work, not a dating site" he laughs at your comment.

"Sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Timothée" he gives you a toothy grin before taking a puff of his cigarette "I'm (y/n), just moved here a week ago from (your country)" "shit that's so cool" he leans on the banister whilst looking at you "how was your day? Probably better than mine" he lets out a scoff with a smile on his face "honestly, I thought my day was a little boring, but I would take it over creepy Aaron. Had lunch with my parents and went to work for a bit" "oooo, what do you do?" "working casually as a florist" her mouth hung opened a bit after hearing that, making him chuckle "what's wrong?" "never took you as a florist, you look like you work in I.T. or something" he snickers "I guess" "maybe I can visit you sometime" "that would be nice, thanks. It's called 'Bloomer Bee'" "cute" he smiles, takes another puff of his cigarette before putting it out "I'm calling it a night" "see you tomorrow?" "sure, will neighbour."

Aaron never changed but what changed was that after work you had something to look forward to; talking to Timothée and you both always met at the same time at dusk, which made the day a bit more pleasant; he knew what to say and conversations were never dull, you both could talk about anything and everything, and it made you both laugh and smile and sometimes it got serious but you both were so comfortable with each other. Sometimes you both would be out there till the late hours of the night, leading to some neighbours telling you both to shut up but that only made you both laugh even more. You were so happy to have gotten so close to him.

However, you came home one day, all happy and smiley to see Timothée and to share your day your day with him and to hear his. But he wasn't there, not leaning on the banister with a cigarette in hand. You shrugged, though disappointed you thought he was still at work or out with friends or something. You saved your day for him for the following evening. He wasn't there for a couple of weeks and soon after you stopped checking and stopped going out to the balcony often.

This summer night was humid and sticky, you left your balcony doors opened to let the cool summer breeze come into your cozy apartment as you snuggle into your fluffy sheets. As you're in a deep slumber, a familiar woody scent crept into your room. You got out of bed; hair all naturally curled up, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and bike shorts, you slowly walked to the balcony where the scent grew stronger. You quietly peep your head out, feeling nervous to see who you might find.

There he was, it was as if he never left. Leaning against the banister, cigarette in his delicate fingers, arm resting over the banister, in a t-shirt and plaid pyjama pants that looked a little too big for him and his infamous curly locks gently going against the breeze. It was as if he knew you would come, he turns around, gives you his best smile "hey, neighbour."