Desire ☆ Timothée Chalamet

| 8 | hang on

In a matter of minutes they had arrived outside of Timothée's apartment. Timothée is leading Daisy inside and they make it to the right floor. They exit the elevator and Timothée knocks on the door gently. In a matter of seconds the door swung open and Daisy didn't have a chance to get a good look at Nicole before she was being pulled into her arms.

Daisy gladly gave into the embrace, Nicole's hugs reminded her of her own mother and she smiled at Nicole as they both pulled away. Timothée watches the exchange with amusement on his face, he then crosses his arms over his chest and frowns. 'What the hell mom, you don't even hug me like that.' He looks grumpy but his mother dismisses him, knowing her son all too well and his playful jokes.

Nicole then turns to Daisy with a beaming smile on her face. 'Daisy it's so nice to meet you. I heard you were at the golden globes, I'm so sad I didn't get to meet you there. You are such a doll.' Timothée watches as Daisy blushes and thanks His mother multiple times for her kind words.

Nicole is now squeezing Daisy's face and Timothée finally decides that Daisy has endured enough smothering. 'Mom she hasn't even stepped in yet let her be.' He scolds his mother and she surprisingly agrees and leads Daisy into the living room where Marc Chalamet, Timothée's father was seated.

Daisy scans the room. It's nice and cozy, and just by looking at it she could tell it was a really safe space to grow up. It was nothing like the luxurious house she grew up in, but only better. With a smaller space there was a higher chance of the family being able to see each other.  In Daisy's house her and her brothers could go days without seeing each-other with the house being so large and the rooms being so spread apart.

She hated that and yearned for a small comfortable house like the one she was standing in.  And she looked at the photo frames on the table of Timothée and his sister Pauline. Each picture showed the siblings growing up little by little and Daisy couldn't help but grin at the photographs.

Marc stands up once he spots Daisy, he heads over to her and she discovers that he, too, is a hugger. He pulls away with a smile on his face and begins to gush over Daisy the same way Nicole did. Once again Daisy's rosy cheeks did not go unnoticed.

'Thank you for inviting me Mr. and Mrs. Chalamet, your son has been nothing but nice to meet these past few days, and I can see where he gets his kindness from.' She says, finally getting a few words out. Although meeting Timmy's parents wasn't so serious. She still felt nervous nonetheless. And wanted to make a good first impression.

Nicole and Marc motion for Daisy to take a seat on the couch and she does so, watching Timothée take a seat beside his mother and wrap an arm around her as he places a kiss on her temple. That sight alone made Daisy melt in her chair. She found it so precious.

They continued with some small talk, which mostly consisted of Daisy and her 'spectacular performance' as quoted by Marc Chalamet himself, in Renovate. Timothée's parents were just the way Daisy imagined them to be. Kind, sweet, caring. All of the qualities that their son possessed.

Marc then looks at Timothée with a smile. 'mon fils, va lui faire du thé, j'ai oublié. my son, go make her some tea I forgot.' But once a Timothée stands up Daisy holds out a hand for him to stop. 'non c'est bon. Je n'ai pas soif. no, it's fine. I'm not thirsty.' Both Timothée and his father stare at Daisy dumbfounded. So does Nicole however she has no idea what they just said.

'You speak french?' Asks Timothée, confused. Daisy nods simply. 'Yes. But I'm not french. My mother went to a french boarding school and my father lived in Paris when he was younger and went to the same school for a while. They met there. And they taught me and my siblings french. Hence the reason why my brother's name is Pierre.' Timothée felt like an idiot for not catching on, and for not knowing. As for Marc, he held a thumbs of for Daisy feeling a sense of pride that she knew how to speak his language.

'Why didn't I know that?' Timothée asks. Daisy simply shrugs. 'I don't know, it never came up. And I don't really want to brag about how obsessed my mom is with French culture when she is not even one small bit french.' They laugh at Daisy's comment and continue to chat for a while until Daisy gets a text from her brother.

Pierre
It's Harvey. Come home, now!
I need you.
Please.

Daisy
I'll be there.
Hang on.

Daisy leans over to Timothée a frown on her face. 'I need to leave, my brother needs me. I'm sorry to cut this short.' Timothée reads her expression and realizes this was a serious matter. So he excuses the two of them and he let's his parents give Daisy one last hug before he has to take her home.

On the ride back Daisy looked off to Timothée. He wanted so badly to ask what was wrong but was afraid she didn't want to talk about it. He asked nonetheless out of pure curiosity. 'Is everything alright?' He asks, trying not to pry. Daisy shrugs. 'I don't know. Pierre told me it was Harvey. I'm guessing he's drunk again, or high. Or both. I don't know.'

Timothée goes silent. He'd forgotten that Daisy was not this perfect image that he'd painted her to be in his mind. That she was going through a lot at home, and was getting through a rough patch. Although he wanted to comfort her he knew how strong she was. She could handle it, she could get through anything that was thrown at her. But why should she? She didn't deserve any of this.