Timothèe Chalamet Imagines

✵leaving again✵

Your POV

I stroke the fine, black fur on Ginny's back, eagerly bouncing my knees. I continuously pick up my phone, checking the time, checking for texts. The TV blares in front of me, but I'm paying no attention to it. My mind is racing. 

Timmy hasn't been home in almost two whole months, and he's coming back to NYC tonight. He's been filming a movie in Paris, which I know he's been loving. It's a little after 8pm, and he texted me about an hour ago telling me he got off his plane, and updated me 45 minutes ago that he was in a cab. That means he'll be here extremely soon. 

The weeks without him are hard. In the beginning, I'm alright, but the loneliness starts to creep in on nights after work when I'm too tired to connect with friends or leave the comfort of our apartment. It's nice to have someone to come home to, someone to cook with, someone to fall asleep next to. I miss our random conversations, the hugs, and the stupid inside jokes when he's gone. 

Ginny shakes her head before jumping off of my knees, annoyed at their anxious bouncing. 

Where is he? I assumed he would text that he was near by now. 

Deciding that I can't sit on this couch in anticipation any longer, I stand up to walk to the kitchen. Maybe I'll make him some tea for when he comes back. Yes. I'll do that. 

But as I'm walking into the kitchen, Ginny trailing soundlessly behind me, a knock on the door makes me whip around on the spot. I freeze for a moment before running at the front door, sliding to a messy stop as my socks slip on the hardwood floor. I swing the door open, and there he is. 

I don't even get a proper look at his face before we are a mush of entangled arms. I squeeze him as tightly as I can, sinking into his shoulder. This is where I belong. This is familiar. 

He wraps his arms around my waist and leans his weight on top of me, his chin poking into the back of my shoulder. 

"I missed you," he whispers, his voice strained. I squeeze him tighter, clutching the fabric of his sweatshirt in my fists. 

"I missed you too," I whisper back. Behind me I hear a "meow", and we let our arms fall. I turn to face Ginny, who's about three feet away. 

"He's back Gins!" I exclaim, and she steps carefully closer to the doorway. Timmy grins and walks past me, trailing his arm around my waist as he does, and leans down to scratch her tiny head. 

"Aww, I missed you, Gins," he coos to her. She melts into his touch, closing her eyes and nestling into his hand. She's not the most vocal or social cat, so this truly shows that she missed him. 

I look back in the hallway and realize that Timmy had dropped his duffel bags. It baffles me that he fits all of his things in just two bags. I shoulder one on each side and walk in, kicking the door shut behind me. Timmy stands from reconciling with Ginny and faces me. He grins and wraps both of his hands around my waist, pulling me against him and looking down at me. 

From here, I can see the differences in his features. His hair is longer - it's definitely longer, and there are prominent circles under his eyes. These could be just from jet-lag, but I think all of the work and travel is wearing him down. He needs to take more time off, in my opinion, but I'm not about to propose that now. That can wait. 

I reach up and wrap my hands around his neck, pulling him down to me. Our lips collide, and it is like a breath of fresh air. It's what I've been missing for these last two months. I rest my forehead against his and smile, feeling giddy with joy. 

"I missed that," he whispers. I feel his breath on my lips. 

"I missed that too," I giggle. 

***