My Sister's Best Friend [T.Chalamet]

24

It was soon time for Timothée to leave New York and me to film Beautiful Boy. It was all the way in California. I thought to go, but then Saoirse would realize, so we could not risk it. Besides,  most of the universities I was applying to were in New York.

Today, Saoirse, Timmy, and I spent the rest of the day binge-watching Netflix. I came home from school, completed some of my last-minute studies, and waited for Saoirse to come home with Timmy. When they both arrived, we all sat in the living room.

I reach into my hand and into the bag for more popcorn, then retract when I feel another hand brush against mine.

When I look down, I notice Timothée smiling awkwardly before muttering a weak sorry. We glanced up at each other, attempting a smile as I awkwardly reached for more popcorn, Timothée moving his hand out to let me.

I clear my throat and settle into the couch more comfortably, but then I feel the weight of the couch shift, and I realise Timothée has begun to move closer. Is he flirting with me? With Saoirse in the room?

I hold my face, trying my best not to smile to maintain focus on the film. He's trying to flirt with me in front of Saoirse so that we can go into my room. It's not happening. Saoirse and I finally patched up our rocky relationship, and I did not want to mess that up.

I bring my knees up to my chest, trying to seem nonchalant as I try extremely hard not to erupt in a fit of giggles when I watch him from the corner of my eye awkwardly fake a yawn and then spread his arms out, one arm resting behind me.

"Are you okay?" Saoirse asks, turning around as she leaves to refill her bowl of popcorn. Timothée nods his head as I pick up the popcorn bag and place it on the coffee table in front of us.

Timothée places his hand on my thigh, squeezing it. I can hear his breathing going rigid, and it's as if he's trying so hard to keep calm.

Timothée clears his throat, and suddenly, I begin to feel bad. so I decided to help him out a bit.

"Hey, Timmy?" I say softly, which immediately catches his attention as he looks at me almost too quickly, "I'm cold. Do you mind...?"

"Oh, sure," Timothée says, cautiously putting his arm around my shoulder and slowly pulling me into him. I bite my lip, holding back my giddy grin, as I lean into his side.

This feeling was rare but exciting. having Timothée this close to me? Normal, but now I was aware that every move was intentional and on purpose in front of Saoirse as well. I was mentally jumping in glee, and I had to bite my lip down from grinning like a psychopath. Surely, I was blushing. I could feel my cheeks heating up.

From my side, I can feel Timothée's gentle heartbeat against me. Mine was practically hammering against my ribs, and I was positive he could hear it as well.

I don't get it; he is nervous. Why is my heart about to explode from inside my chest, and his feelings are calm and collected, like he wasn't just about to shit his pants moments ago?

the movie was yet to finish.

I feel so stiff and frozen on the spot. Timothée's thumb begins caressing my shoulder in slow circles, slightly tightening his grip on me, then loosening it again. I can feel my heart crawling up my throat, threatening to burst out from my body.

calm. down

my mouth feels dry, and I'm afraid of opening my mouth, thinking I might end up choking or making some weird, inhumane noise.

But before I could continue my panicking state of nerves or embarrassing myself in front of Timothée, he finally spoke up in the middle of the comfortable silence. "Y/N," I turned towards him as I watched his mouth open, close, then open once more to speak, "Are... are you still watching?"