Timothèe Chalamet Imagines

♫piano♫

Your POV

My fingers fly along the black and white keys, and I completely lose myself in the sound of Debussy's Prelude No. 1. I love these pieces, they are undeniably beautiful. They're not just technical classical pieces; they have emotion and power.

I end on a low C, and move my fingers to begin the next song.

I whip through the next movement, which is quick and bright. It's full of energy, and ignites something inside of me. It contrasts the other melancholy movements in Prelude No. 1. It's my favorite.

When I finish, I carefully close the lid, stand, and turn to go read my book. I scream and jump back with a start. Timothée is leaning against the doorway, his arms folded over his chest, a grin on his face.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he says.

"Geeze, it's fine," I say, placing my hand against my beating heart.

"I wish you would play like that more often," he says, still leaning agianst the doorway.

"I play all the time, Tim."

"Yeah, but I wish you would play like that."

"Like what?" I ask, walking to him and twisting one of his curls in my fingers. He looks down at me.

"You just let loose when you think no one is watching."

I frown.

"What do you mean?" I ask. He looks off for a moment, thinking, before he looks back down at me.

"It's like I can feel the energy flowing from you or something. You move like you are a part of the music. When you play with anyone else in the room - even me - it's just different," he says.

"Oh." I hadn't noticed I do that. "I guess I'm just worried about playing everything perfectly when I know that other people are listening," I say, dropping my hand from his curl.

"You always play perfectly, no matter what," he tells me. I grin. He always makes me feel so special.

"Thank you. I'll try to loosen up when I play around you," I promise.

"Around everyone!" he corrects me.

"No way. If I'm not perfect in front of my mom, she'll judge me," I say defensively.

"Fine. Just me then. Can we go out for dinner? I don't feel like cooking."

"Absolutely," I say.

"But first, play one more thing for me?" he asks. He raises his eyebrows with hope.

"Sure. Any requests?" I ask, walking back to the piano.

"How about Pathétique Sonata?"

AHHHH 1k READS! WHAT??? this is seriously one of the only things keeping me going right now. life can get rough. but thank you all so much! Also I have readers in ITALY!!! that is my dream destination - I'm studying Italian!! anyway thank you guys so much. this is so crazy, and I am so, so grateful for it. :)