in which her favorite perfume was honey wildflower and he loved it.
or
in which she fell for the curly haired french boy.
✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰
(social media x real life)
(fem oc x timothée chalamet)
warning: this story uses matur...
moving day absolutely sucks, my muscles are sore and i'm ready to kill myself. i don't even have that many boxes, im just weak and tired.
"im gonna jump off the balcony" i sigh, flopping on to timothée's- well, mine and timothée's bed.
"you're so weak" timothée chuckles.
"shut up, im tired" i pout.
"you should've seen her when we first moved into our apartment, it was so funny" hazel laughs.
"you guys are bullies" i frown.
"good" hazel smiles.
"i honestly expected you to have more" timothée confesses, staring at the boxes.
"eh. i thought i did, but i guess not" i say getting up from the bed.
"do you want me to stay and help you unpack or?" hazel asks.
"no it's fine, i got it" i smile. "plus you have to figure out what you're going to do with my old room" i add.
"ugh that's right" she groans.
"you'll figure something out" timothée smiles.
"oh! i know what you can do with it!" i grin.
"what?" she questions.
"you can make a shrine of me with some jesus candles!" i laugh.
"absolutely not" she giggles.
"why does this feel like i'm never going to see you again?" i ask, starting to tear up.
"it's like a twenty minute drive, we'll be fine" she says before pulling me into a hug.
"that's too far" i sigh, hugging her tightly.
"i know" she breathes out.
"i love you hazel" i smile, backing out of the hug.
"i love you ryen" she smiled back before walking to the door and leaving.
"you okay?" timothée asks, pulling me into a hug.
"yeah, just tired" i sigh into his chest.
we stand like that for about five minutes, just enjoying each other's presence. "we should probably start unpacking your stuff" he whispers.
"probably" i agree, pulling away.
❀ ❀ ❀
"it's like our first date all over again" i laugh as i stare at the tv, eating a chuckle from him.
timothée and i finished unpacking my stuff like three hours ago, then we ate dinner and now we're watching another horror movie cuddled up on the couch.
"god people in horror movies are stupid" he laughs.
"very" i agree.
i watch the girl run from the killer and trip. why do they always trip? i have no idea but it never fails to make me nervous and mad at the same time.
i can feel timothée staring at me "stop staring, weirdo" i laugh, turning to face him.
"i cant help it" he sighs, before kissing me.
"i know the feeling" i breathe out.
"what?" he asks.
"i know the feeling of not being able to stop staring, i go through it everyday looking at you" i smile.
"you're adorable" he grins, kissing me again.
"i love you" i sigh, kissing him.
"i love you" he chuckles.
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a/n this chapter is very short, sorry for that, writers block is a bitch. anyway, i love my cheesy parents so much😫😫
me when timothée and ryen:
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