timothée chalamet imagines

piano

your pov

I wake up to rain smacking the windows hard.

My hands search the bed for Timothée, but he's not next to me anymore. I sit up, rubbing my eyes to look around the semi-dark room.

I get off the bed and open the door. "Timothée?"

No response. I walk down the almost pitch black hallway and jump when the thunder rumbles.

"Timothée?" I call out again.

I make my way down the stairs and jump again when I hear keys of a piano. Our living room lamp is on, I can see its glare when I'm at the bottom of the stairs.

He's sitting on the bench, one hand on the keys, slumped over when I step into the living room.

"What are you doing?" I ask walking over to him.

"Couldn't sleep." he says.

I sit next to him on the bench, my head resting on his shoulder.

"Was it the rain?" I ask and he nods.

"You were still sleeping," he says "I didn't want to wake you up." He presses down on the keys once more.

"Play me something?"

He smiles whispering an "okay."

I take my head off his shoulder as he begins to play, the sound making me want to fall back asleep instantly.

He's playing intensely, getting lost in the music as he bites his lip and his curls bounce. I can't help but watch in complete admiration.

The song ends with a single note and he turns to me, smiling proudly of himself.

"Is there anything you can't do?" I ask.

He chuckles, "I don't think so."

I laugh as he presses a kiss to my lips.

"Want to go back to bed?" I run my fingers through his hair.

"Just let me play one more song."

I nod and he adjusts his hands over a new set of keys. He smiles at me once more and begins to play Mystery of Love.