Your POV
"Oh my god, it was terrible. It was so obvious. I just get so nervous," Timmy says, sitting down on the edge of the couch and rubbing his hands over his eyes before running them through his hair.
"I'm sure it really wasn't as bad as you think," I tell him.
We're in London right now, and we just got back to the place we're renting from the premiere of our movie here. It's almost 3am now - it's been a long night. It was absolutely amazing, but we haven't announced that we're together to the public. I don't think we ever will - but everyone knows. We just want to keep it out of work, but it's getting harder and harder to hide.
But apparently, a journalist really pried Timmy for information tonight, which is something they don't usually do in live interviews or anything. If we wanted to tell people, we would, and they know that.
"She just kept asking me and I obviously didn't want to talk about it! Or share it... I don't know but it was so obvious and I think it was really bad," he tells me. He flops down on the couch, laying defeatedly on his back. "I love this job, but shit like that sucks."
"I know. Just remember, it's not as bad as you think," I tell him, sitting next to his head and gently playing with his perfect hair.
"You should've seen it," he groans.
"Do you think it's online?" I ask.
"Gross... no... Y/N seriously don't look it up," he says.
I'm a step ahead of him though, and I'm already holding my phone in the hand that isn't running through his hair. I pull up YouTube, an search: "Timothée Chalamet London Premiere"
It's the first video that pops up, and it already has over two thousand views. Crazy.
To his dismay, I click on it.
"Is it true that you and Y/N are more than just coworkers?" the interviewer asks in a cheery voice, shoving the mic at him. He smiles and gives one of his nervous laughs, unsure how to answer before shaking his head quickly.
Our director is standing next to him, and he interrupts.
"Everyone wants it to happen, right? They're both wonderful - they were both wonderful to work with," he says, trying to save the moment.
The journalist brushes this comment off, barely moving the mic towards our director before pointing it back at Timmy.
"Are you meeting up at any after parties tonight?" she asks, him. He nervously chuckles again and shakes it head.
"Nah... I'm... I'm..." he can't finish his sentence. I can see him visibly blush.
"Y/N makes you speechless!" she remarks. He just smiles, unsure about what to do with himself, and then the conversation changes as our director cuts in again.
I turn off my phone and grin down at the Timmy who's next to me in real life.
He's covering his face with both of his hands, and he groans again.
"That was horrible," he mumbles.
All I can do is grin. Sure, he was blatantly obvious and his effort to cover things up was terrible, but that was the cutest thing I've ever seen.
"That was not horrible. That was adorable," I tell him. I lean down and kiss the fingers that cover his face.
He slowly slides his hand down and frowns.
"Look, it's not like people don't know. We just don't talk about it. Nothing bad is going to happen. It's just cute. I make you speechless," I tell him with a little laugh. I'm truly not stressed about this at all. I can't stop beaming at his reaction to me.
"How do you stay so poised in those things? Like, really, I've seen you handle those weird, invasive questions and you just answer so effortlessly. Give me your secrets," he says, sitting up now and leaning back on the couch.
"I don't know... I just say what comes to mind I guess."
"I wish I had that skill. I'm so sick of people trying to figure out all of my information all the time."
"I know. I'm sorry. It feels like they've really been invasive lately," I tell him.
He sighs and closes his eyes for moment, before looking over at me again.
"They can't see us right now," he says to me in a low voice.
I raise my eyebrows and grin, and he leans over quickly and presses his lips to mine, kissing me deeply. I've been waiting for this all night. He brings both hands down to my waist and grips me firmly, pressing me down against the couch and hovering over me.
"They can't see us all night," I whisper when he pulls back slightly.
He laughs and presses his lips against mine once again.