✔ Statistics » Timothée Chalamet

T w e n t y - E i g h t

"I left you some clothes on the couch you can wear today, figured we could go to set together" The boy smiled at her, not quite wanting her to depart from him, for he enjoyed the morning with her, even though it didn't feel like one. The sun barely peeked out behind the many buildings of the town they had learned to call their home, with its golden petals that began to slowly stretch outwards the sky, surrounded by shades of peaches and wild berries, radiating hope, a chance to start a brand new day. 

"Thank you, mon chéri" Manon smiled wholeheartedly as she planted a kiss on Timothée's cheek, the gesture filling him with nothing but joy. It was the little things that really mattered to him, that really made him feel so loved. 

Manon often heard her grandparents calling each other different nicknames, it was a sweet way for them to show affection, to get lost in a world of their love for a moment, even when they were surrounded by nothing but the tasks of the real world or the responsibilities of adulthood. The girl aspired to have something like that one day, someone to show to love to and get lost in just as they had. She promised to herself one day that she would find someone to truly give in to. Subconsciously, Manon always knew who it was, but perhaps until she didn't say a prominent, old nickname out loud, she hadn't truly realized that it was more than just affection she was feeling towards the curly boy that stood in front of her.

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Her hands caressed the dishes as she removed the remaining of the food residue off. The girl felt it was the least she could do after the boy cleaned her own mess and cooked breakfast for her. Manon wasn't used to such royal treatment. It was true her grandparents treated her as though she was a royal, but even that didn't come smoothly to her, for she experienced far worse before they came along and took her in as their own daughter. Regardless, for the majority of her life, they did everything for her. She barely knew how to make something as simple as pasta until life took them away from her and she had to learn to become an adult, at nothing but a teenager's age. The girl felt thankful for Timothée, that had brought the child within her she never thought she would see again, the child, that despite dealing with some toil back at her permanent home, felt spoiled and loved by those closest to her. 

Like a shot that soared sharply by her ear, a knock erupted on the door. It caught her off guard, the idea of other people surprising her, for she felt as though for the last day she was somewhere else, a place where only she and Timothée existed. Some could say she even felt a bit disappointed, that whoever was behind the wooden door, broke the serene morning she shared with the curly-headed boy, a morning she hoped could last forever. To say she didn't suspect a particular person would be a lie. Of course, Armie was a possibility. He picked up Timothée almost every day, and the girl wouldn't be surprised, or angry, for that matter, if he was the one standing behind the door.

Unable to decide whether she should approach the door or not, Manon opted to waiting for Timothée to do it himself. She stared at the deep corridor from which the boy embarked out of with a new set of clothes. 

"Armie"? Manon asked the boy as she crossed her arms and gazed at the door curiously.

"Yep. He always comes over in the morning. I told him you were here but he still insisted he should come because he didn't trust us both to wake up on time" Timothée shrugged his shoulders as he waltzed over to the door, his response removing any remaining skepticism from the girl's thoughts. She felt relieved to hear his response, not quite ready to deal with anyone else but her two closest friends, the notorious blond and the brunet, the duo that hardly ever left her side.