Timothèe Chalamet Imagines

❈stay home❈

Your POV

I roll over in bed, reaching for my phone to shut the fucking alarm off.

5am every day to get to work on time.

I let myself rest my eyes for a little bit longer when next to me, Timmy groans and throws one long arm around my waist. How am I supposed to leave that?

I lay for a moment with my eyes closed, just feeling the warmth of the bed and the weight of Timmy's arm, relishing the moment.

Work has been so incredibly stressful lately. I've done my best not to take anything out on Timothée, but I feel bad that I'm not myself. I haven't had the energy to go out when I do finally get home, and I've been working super late. Journalism is demanding. Some nights I don't get home until 11.

All I want to do is get away from this stress. This horrible anxiety that gives me endless headaches. But I can't. I have to go to work.

Trying not to wake Timmy, I slowly shift out of bed and sit up, rubbing my eyes. Already I can feel a headache coming on at just the thought of finishing important stories by tomorrow's deadline.

Behind me, Timmy claws at my shirt.

"Y/N. Come back to bed," he groans sleepily. I turn and look at him. His messy curls are splayed in a halo around him, his eyes not opening.

"I have to go," I whisper to him.

"Don't go... you're always gone..." he mumbles, still half asleep.

It makes me feel extremely guilty.

"It's not my fault that my career is demanding, I'm trying to make a living," I snap, my voice slightly louder.

He opens his eyes and props himself up on one arm, rubbing his eyes with his other hand.

"Sorry, that's not what I meant..." he says, trying to wake up.

"Just go back to bed," I tell him shortly. I stand and walk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me.

I have absolutely no reason to be upset with him. I feel so guilty for taking my anxiety out on him. I stare at myself in the mirror for a moment. I look extremely tired. My skin looks paler than usual. I'm starting to look lifeless.

I sigh and behind me, the door slowly opens and Timmy pokes his curly head through.

"Hey, I'm sorry I made you angry," he says softly.

I shake my head.

"No. That's ridiculous. I'm sorry. I know I've been... sort of checked out lately. And I know I'm always gone. I wish this wasn't so much, but we've got all these deadlines and I'm sort of panicking about this story that's supposed to be out by Saturday at 4am and I just feel so overwhelmed and I don't know how much longer I can do this." My words become rushed and I bury my face in my hands as the weight of my responsibilities crashes through my body.

I feel Timmy wrap his long arms around me, and I let myself lean agianst him, my head resting on his chest. He rests his chin on top of my head.

"I know. I know how stressed you are. It's not good for you, Y/N. I'm worried," he whispers. I breathe deeply, pressing my forehead against him and shutting my eyes. We stay like this for a while, and I soak up the feeling of being wrapped in his arms. It seems to make all the stress in the world melt away.

"Stay home today," he says quietly. I pull back and look him in the eyes. I almost laugh at the idea.

"Yeah. Right," I say sarcastically.

"Y/N, I mean it. Take one day off. Stay home," he says earnestly. He reaches out and gently pets my hair behind my ear. I'm momentarily distracted by the touch of his long fingers. "You deserve it," he whispers.

It's so tempting. But I have deadlines upon deadlines, and the stress of coming back after missing would be insurmountable.

"Tim, I can't. I'm already just barely keeping my head above water here. If I miss an entire day, I'll be so behind," I tell him.

"Taking a day off will help you destress, which will help you focus more," he says. He really knows how to get me.

He's right. It would be nice to stay home and just breathe for a while. And Timmy leaves in a few weeks to start filming, so we won't see each other for almost a month.

"Alright. Yeah. I'll stay home... I'll just tell my boss I'm sick..." I cautiously agree.

Timmy's face lights up at this.

"Really? This is great!" he almost sprints back to the bedroom, fully awake now, and comes back holding out my phone as if I would change my mind any second.

I take it from him and call my boss, telling her that I'm sick.

"So what are we gonna do today?" he asks. He reminds me of a puppy who bounding and jumping with joy as he rocks on his heels.

"First let me brush my teeth," I say laughing.

"Okay, I'll..." I see thoughts flash across his face before he grins, and walks quickly out of the bathroom. I shake my head, smiling, and get ready.

When I'm finally done, the smell of eggs and toast wafts through the apartment.

I come down to the kitchen and see him setting two plates on the table. I love his little apron.

We eat together and clean up the kitchen.

"Want to watch a movie?" he asks. By this time, the sunlight has begun to filter in through the apartment's windows, casting long, bright beams across the floor.

"Yes," I respond.

We both sit on the couch in our living room and I end up wrapping myself around him, resting my head on his shoulder while we look for a movie to watch.

My eyelids grow heavy and his body is so warm underneath mine. I let myself close my eyes with every intention of opening them again, but I drift off into sleep curled against him.

***

When I wake up, Timmy is still sitting in the same position underneath me.

"What... oh... sorry... I didn't mean to fall asleep," I say groggily. The sun fills the room now alluding to late morning.

"It's fine," he says softly. He smiles down at me. I realize that he's just been sitting in silence, letting me sleep. His long fingers slowly run along my bare arm, the sunlight making his touch even warmer against my skin.

We spend the rest of the day lazily watching movies, ordering in lunch, and playing cards together on the living room floor. It's so nice to spend time with him. I can't remember the last time we had a day like this.

We go out to dinner at our favorite place, dressing up and ordering our favorite food. When I show him my dress he grins and pulls me into a tight hug against him.

"So beautiful," he whispers in my ear, tightening his grip around my waist.

Falling asleep, I'm happy that I stayed home. I deserved it. He pulls me into his arms and we drift off next to each other.

"Thank you for making me stay home," I whisper, my lips only inches from his.

"I love you. Life is too short to waste with the stress you put on yourself," he tells me.

"I know. But today helped," I say.

It really did.

hey (: thank you all so much for all of this support. it's absolutely insane. reviewing my writing, I realize that a lot of it is very dark. however, I'm feeling more uplifted lately, (thanks to spring), so lighter things are coming. if you gave me a request for something and I haven't done it yet, I promise I'm trying but I really would rather not post something that I don't feel is my best. I have every single request from comments and messages, even small ideas, written down and have drafted most of them. I'm always open to new requests however I never guarantee that I can produce them because I feel that the writing is sometimes unnatural. anyways, I hope you're doing well :) I love you guys <3