|Catholic school|

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Being the principals daughter of a catholic school was like being the presidents daughter

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Being the principals daughter of a catholic school was like being the presidents daughter. You can't get away from that title and everyone expects you to have a perfect image for the sake of...well the grace of your father. You walk out of sisters Mary's office and bump into the one and only- Timotheé Chalamet.

He's no good news from experiences with my father. Almost every night my father complains how he could be a pain, but he still has hope in the boy. He came here to Spain because his parents couldn't handle him in the United States. He had sex, did drugs and used to hang around with a bad crowd; now in this school he just has a bad attitude and pranks the teachers. Though he is popular for his good looks, I know he has more to him. He looks down at me and his land on my hips.

"Perdóname." He says in a soft tone instead of how Americans usually chop up Spanish.

He moves to the side and continues to walk to the front office. You touch your cheeks and they are burning hot, I can't be tempted with this boy. Timotheé and I have two very different reputations. I adjust my bag and walk to class early to take a nap before we have to go to the halls for Ash Wednesday.
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You stand at the middle rows where you always sit with your friends and the priest prays in Spanish on the podium as the choir sings a opera like hymn.

"Boys may sit down." He says in a sturdy tone.

You look over and only one person is between you and Timotheé, not that that matters. You glance over to see Timotheé already staring over at you, he casually looks away and stares at the priest. Again...not like it matters. You sing your hymn and put the book away. Each row, girls made a line on the isle and the priest instructed for guys to do the same making two perfect lines of the genders. You ignore Timotheé being next to you and chant the hymn.

"Psst Y/n." You hear him call.

Temptation, you're really working on me huh? You roll your eyes and still chant. It's my last year here and I wanna have a clean image for father. You two are next in line and the priest has the ashes on his thumb.

"Remember that you are dust and to dust you will return." The ashes are crossed on your forehead.

You walk opposite ways from Timotheé and the line distributes us back into our rows. The priest goes on about why we have Ash Wednesday and I try my best to pay attention, but all I can think about what Timotheé wanted to say to me. You're randomly are tugged by your hair and you know it's Timotheé doing that. You look over at him and he has a smirk on his face.

"Don't ignore me next time Y/n." He lowly chuckles.

Your jaw drops and gasp at how rude he is being.

"Don't speak to me like that I'm not your-."

"Y/n and Timotheé come with me." You hear your fathers stern tone.

Right then and there everyone is secretly staring at why the principles daughter and the bad boy of the school are shamefully walking down the isle heading to the hallway. Father holds the door and we all meet outside in the hallway.

"Why are you pulling Y/n hair Timotheé and why are you two talking during a sermon?" He grits.

I look down at my flats embarrassed that this does look bad.

"Sir You know I used to be Christian and I was confused about what the priest ment so I asked Y/n but I tugged her hair to get her attention." He bluntly lies.

How could he just make up a lie just like that.

"Well next time keep your hands to yourself preferably away from my daughters hair." Your dad mistakenly goes back to praise leaving you two alone.

Timotheé bites his lip as devilish thoughts swarms in his head looking at you. He walks upon you and backs you into a walk. He strokes your face to reads your expression. His eyes ring into yours and his sharp jawline is tight. Your heartbeat is so hard that you could feel it hitting your ribs. Do I subconsciously find Timotheé attractive? You thought to yourself.

"Y/n do you want to hang out with me and my friends when we go on the senior summer trip?"

I cant even form words so I just nod my head.

Imagine/one shots-Timothée ChalametDär berättelser lever. Upptäck nu