* ˚ · ⊹ * ˚ · ⊹ ˚
* ˚ · ⊹ * ˚ · ⊹ ˚
Timothée drifted in and out of sleep as your late night conversation winded down at around two in the morning.
It was a rare occurrence for your schedules to line up but the two of you were fortunate enough to be in the same place three times in a row. You walked shows in New York, London, and now Paris for fashion week and Timothée went to all your shows in between movie press. The Eiffel Tower shimmered from the bedroom window and the sight of it never got old. It couldn't be more perfect.
Except that you were sleeping in different rooms and dodging press to hide your relationship. The two of you alternated nights in each other's hotel rooms with tonight being his turn to come to yours. You two had decided beforehand that you didn't want a relationship to overshadow your careers so you could be your own people, whatever the hell that meant. You agreed just because you were so in love with him.
"It's kinda hot," you had said before.
But it wasn't hot anymore. And you had to say something.
Timothée's eyes fluttered back open and a smile spread over his face when he saw you. He shifted around under the covers trying to get comfortable. "You're still awake?" he asked, reaching for your hand and kissing the back of it.
You nodded. "Still awake."
He grinned and moved closer to you, his lips hovering dangerously over yours. "Round three?" he asked, kissing your lips then your cheek then your neck.
"Maybe."
He let you have your space when he noticed the discomfort in your voice. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah." You reached for Timothée's shirt underneath the mess of sheets and comforters to clothe yourself. "I just...can we talk about something?"
"What's wrong?" He switched on the lamp so he didn't have to strain to see you in the dark.
"Okay, well, first, you know I love you right?" You didn't even know how to start this discussion even though you'd thought about it for hours every day.
Timothée nodded. "I love you too."
"I just feel like we need to renegotiate this relation-ship," you said.
He shook his head. "Meaning...?"
"I don't think we should hide anymore," you blurted out. "When you really think about it, why are we hiding?"
"Because we agreed...?"
"I know, but I don't really feel like your girlfriend, I feel like a groupie or something. It feels like we're embarrassed of each other," you explained.
"But that's not...you're not a groupie."
"I know, Timothée, I'm just..." You took a deep breath and brought your emotions back in check. "I'm tired of sneaking around with you. I thought I wouldn't mind but I do. That's all."
He didn't say anything. It worried you. You ran over every word spoken in the last two minutes trying to figure out if you said something wrong or if you misinterpreted something he said. You didn't want this conversation to kill your relationship.
"How long have you felt this way?" he asked.
You shrugged. "I don't know, maybe a month? Something just clicked for me."
"I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't talk to me."
"I needed time to figure out what I was feeling. It's no one's fault."
He sat back in the bed, arms crossed over his chest. You felt terrible for ruining what had been such a great few weeks in two seconds. You were just about ready to cry.
"When do you wanna go public?" Timothée asked out of nowhere.
You didn't know how to respond. You never got that far in the dialogue in your head.
"I don't..." You genuinely had no answer. "I don't know. Eventually. One day. I guess."
"I don't want you to think I'm embarrassed of you," Timothée said, the look in his eyes acting as an apology. "Because I'm not."
"I know you're not, I was just saying..."
"I just wanted you to hear me say it," Timothée said. "I'm really proud to be your boyfriend."
You bit the inside of your cheek as you blushed out of control. "Okay, okay, I get it."
"And I'm not saying all this to make up for lost time or anything," he added. "I really mean that shit."
You raised your hand to his face, gently caressing his skin and then toying with his hair. "I know, Timmy."
"I love you, okay? So much. We'll make it right." He leaned over to kiss you and held you close for the rest of the night.
The next day was the Louis Vuitton men's show. You were able to get ready with less of a burden on your shoulders after your conversation with Timothée last night. At least you knew he wasn't completely opposed to being public with you.
You and Timothée arrived in separate cars, him travelling with his friends and you travelling with yours. It would've been something that bothered you before.
Paparazzi camped outside waiting for the stars to snap photos of. You posed by yourself and with your friends, completely forgetting Timothée was even around—until he was standing right next to you with his hand around your waist.
"What are you doing?" you laughed. You had zero intention of asking him to leave.
"Going public."
He pulled you into a kiss, being dramatic on purpose by swaying you back and forth and smiling against your lips. There were gasps and mutterings in French and camera shutters going off a mile a minute. It was perfect.
"I love you," he whispered, kissing you again. He continued in French, "My beautiful girl."
You nearly drowned in that wonderful look in his eyes. He was so happy, maybe happier than you. It was crazy how much he loved you.
"This is my girlfriend!" he called out. Once in English and then again in French so it was abundantly clear.
"That was completely unexpected," you said, helplessly laughing through your words. "What made you do that?"
"It just felt right," he answered, lifting your hand to his lips. "Are you upset?"
"Oh my god, no, of course not! That was the most romantic thing that has ever happened to me. It felt like a movie."
"I figured it was now or never," Timothée explained. "I thought you would like a surprise."
"I loved it. And I love you."
He put his hands on your hips and pulled you in close, his mouth inches away from yours. "Say it again."
"I love you, Timothée."
Another kiss set off more flash photography. You couldn't wait for the world to see these photos and you couldn't wait to take more.
* ˚ · ⊹ * ˚ · ⊹ ˚
wack ass ending but that's okay. hope u loved :) comment/vote etc kisses <333
YOU ARE READING
Timothée Chalamet One Shots
Fanfictionlittle shorts i have decided to publish. enjoy <3