the treehouse ⋈ timothée chalamet

o n e

"Good morning baby sister," Audrey smirks. She watches me intensely as I walk over to the kitchen table. Mom had already filled it with delicious breakfast foods that I could smell from my bedroom. Muffins, pancakes, eggs, fruit, orange juice, all the things that motivate me to wake up in the morning.

I give Audrey an annoyed look while pouring a glass of orange juice, and put a few pancakes on my plate, immediately drowning it with maple syrup. I look over at Audrey once again just to see her smirk replaced with a disgusted look. "I did it to spite you, just so you know," I blurt.

She repeats my sentence but with mock in every word. "You're a freak, Bella."

I stick out my tongue at her before diving into my syrup heavy pancakes, thoroughly enjoying every bite.

Audrey puts her fork and knife down and this time stares at me until I look at her. "What?" I say knowing exactly what she was trying to get my attention for.

"He's coming today and you're not even bothered?"

I sigh before answering, "No, Audrey. You act like it hasn't been seven years." I continue munching away.

"Oh come on! Timmy was your first love, it's almost psychotic that you don't feel anything."

I scoff dramatically, "Love is too strong of a word to describe a crush I had when I was fifteen." I pluck a strawberry from the fruit bowl. I take the stem off and pop it into my mouth. "Besides," I start, "Why would I be bothered by a guy who probably hasn't even thought about me in almost a decade."

Audrey squints her eyes together and continues to stare at me, trying to find any sort of nerves I was feeling about him and his mom coming today. She sighs in defeat knowing I just really wasn't nervous. I no longer had a crush on him and all awkwardness between Timothée and I has subsided. I barely even remember the night I confessed my feelings so that just means that he had probably forgotten about it by now too.

Mom rushes into the kitchen in a gorgeous yellow sundress that went amazingly with her tan skin. She was putting on a pair of silver hoops, while also rushing to the mirror beside the fridge. She checks her makeup, adjusting any harsh lipstick lines and then looks towards us. "Well girls, how do I look?" she asks doing a confident little shimmy.

"You look stunning, mama," Audrey responds, a proud smile on her face.

"Amazing, gorgeous, perfect are words that describe only half of how pretty you are," I add.

Mom blushes and comes over to us, kissing us both on our foreheads. "T-minus one hour until Nicole and Timmy get here. I want you both to get ready after you're done, okay?"

We both nod compliantly. Mom nods and then rushes back out of the living room, probably to do some extra house cleaning. It had to be perfect for her, she hasn't seen her best friend, Nicole, in seven years and was beyond ecstatic.

"Do you even know what he looks like now?" Audrey says, continuing the conversation.

"AUDREY," I yell, a little too aggressively. "Drop it, alright?" I knew that if she started behaving this way when he was actually here, things were going to get awkward real fast. And to answer her question, no, I didn't know what he looked like now. All I knew was that every 17-year-old girl in North America knew exactly what he looked like, and that's all I let myself know.

Audrey shakes off my anger and finishes her food.

I quickly finish my food as well. Audrey out of habit takes my plate and puts it in the dishwasher. She runs upstairs without saying another word to me. I could only assume she was hurt that I had yelled at her. I'd have to remember to apologize later. For now, I ran upstairs to my bedroom and got dressed in semi-formal attire. I put on a light blue body con dress as well as just a pair of chunky doc martens. I loosely curled my hair and put on a minimal amount of makeup.

Before I knew it, the doorbell had rung. "Bella, sweetie, can you get it?" I hear mom yell from the other side of the house.

I quickly rush downstairs and whip open the door.

Nicole Flender, Timothées mom, a gorgeous brown-haired woman greeted me with a warm smile. "Bella," she starts, opening her arms, "You look absolutely gorgeous." She gives me a firm hug, the smell of her elegant perfume filling my nose.

"Hi Nicole," I smile back, "You look just the same as I remember."

Nicole smiles at this. I detach from her arms and can't help but look behind her to see if her son was there. I saw their black car in our driveway with the trunk open, I assumed he was still getting their bags.

"Come in," I say as I open the door wider to let Nicole in.

Audrey comes downstairs and runs into Nicole's arms.

I'm not sure what it was but my body carried me outside. Who knows, maybe I was actually eager to see what Timothée looked like after all these years. I decided I'll help him with his bags.

I walk down the long driveway, my docs clacking against the pavement. I see the silhouette of a thin, tall boy with long hair. He pulls out the last bag and slings it over his shoulder. He closes the trunk of the car abruptly, allowing me to really see his face now. It looked the same as I remembered although now, he didn't look like a boy, instead, he looked like a full-grown adult. It was insane seeing him like that now. I felt butterflies in my stomach and was immediately shocked by my response to him. I suppressed it as much as I could and continued walking.

Timothée glances up and does a double-take, his eyes widen and a small smile appears on his lips. My heart rate increases drastically.

"Bella," he says, so quietly that I almost didn't hear it. For some reason hearing his deep voice say my name made all the blood in my body rush to my face. This was a bad idea.

"Hey," I say finally making my way over to him. He instinctively pulls me in a for a hug, I hug him back and awkwardly tap on his back. He lets go and looks at me. And not just a simple glance but he really looks at me. I'm taken aback by his forwardness.

"You look great," he compliments, adjusting the strap of the bag on his shoulder. I give him a small smile.

He was wearing a casual but fashionable outfit. He layered a black t-shirt with the Gorillaz band logo printed on it with a black long sleeve. He wore a pair of black dress pants and paired it all with a pair of sneakers that looked expensive. A thin silver chain was hung loosely around his neck. Although he looked the same as when he was seventeen, one thing that drastically changed was his choice of clothing. It was quite a contrast from a polo shirt and a pair of khaki shorts.

"Let me help you," I say, grabbing a bag from one of his hands. He chuckles at my abruptness.

"Still eager little Bella, huh?"

My face burned and I quickly looked away, praying that he didn't notice. Without even saying anything I begin walking to the house. I hear his laugh trail behind me. "Glad to see that nothing's changed," he says happily.

I guess not. As much as I didn't want to believe it, Timothée Chalamet still gave me fricken butterflies in my stomach.

A/N: woah I started a timmy fic, who would've thought. lemme know what you think so far! ok, thx, love u bye