My Sister's Best Friend [T.Chalamet]

26

It's been a few weeks since Saoirse found out. She hasn't fully come to terms with it, and she still hasn't spoken to Timothée, but she's beginning to adapt. She knows when I leave without explanation, only to come back a few hours later, where I've been. She doesn't ask. We've finally talked about everything, though. She told me that she understands how difficult our parents are and how upsetting and bad she feels about what I went through, and she's apologized. She said she'd try her best to be there for me now, and she is so far. Timothée's left to go filming for 'Beautiful Boy' but it's fine. I promised Saoirse too that I'd focus on my future plans, so I have a lot of universities to visit and exams to prepare for too.

We message. He calls. We're still in contact. He's missing me. I'm missing him, too. As for school, I took Timothée's advice; I'm ignoring them and just sticking to myself. I still talk and hang out with people, but they're just classmates. We don't socialise anywhere else except during our classes. I avoid Sabrina and Lorenzo; Timothée is right. They're not worth it, but they do not even come near me anyway since the whole fiasco with Timothée. Lorenzo and Dylan should avoid me now. Lorenzo, especially since he saw Timothée pick me up a few times. During class, occasionally I would catch him staring at me, but the second I'd look up or towards his direction, he'd jump or whip his head in some other direction.

I came home from school today, and with Saoirse's help, I submitted my applications. Then we watched a couple of films together. Her latest film had just wrapped up as well, so now she was free, and she planned to spend that time with me. Her and Timothée were recently cast in another upcoming movie too, but that was not going to begin until next year.

My phone rings, and the name reads 'Timothée'. I ignore it because I'm sitting with Saoirse watching a movie. It keeps ringing. She looks at me, and I give her a give her a guilty smile. "You can answer it," she says.

"Thank you," I whisper to her as I answer his facetime and enter my room. I pick up his call and see him lying down too. He looks like he's about to go to sleep; only the lamp is switched on, so I lie down on my bed. We're both lying down in bed silently, just staring at our phone screens, pretending there's no screens and we're just lying there next to each other on the same bed. "How are you?" he whispers slowly, smiling.

I smile back too, "I'm good. Could be better." I toy with him as he chuckles at my response.

"Do you have a middle name?" he randomly asks me.

I switch sides on the bed mainly because my hand is tired, "no, do you?"

"Hal," he says. "It's a lot easier to pronounce than my first name, though, I bet you."

"Timothée Hal Chalamet," I say. "That's a unique name."

Timothée rises onto his elbow and looks up at his phone. I'm guessing he put the phone down on the bed, so he's kind of towering over it while lying down. I can imagine what he would be doing right now if he were here. He would brush my hair behind my ear as his eyes roamed over my face, which they are doing right now. I can feel his gaze through the screen. "Anything interesting happened this week while I was working?" he asks in a playful voice. I like it. I like this tone of voice a lot.

"Actually, Timothée Hal Chalamet. I just submitted my applications for university."

"Are you happy with it.?"

I pause. I haven't even thought of that. All I've thought of is that it was what my parents wanted me to be."

He whistles, and I return to the call. I smile at him. "Yes, I am." I applied to the same course they wanted me to apply to, but I had one more option, which I applied for myself. Literature. I just hope for the best.

"Do you like your job?" I ask him.

"I love my job," he says as he runs his fingers through his hair. "I just don't like being gone so much, especially now that I have you. It makes me want to be home all the time." His fingers move down to his shirt, working on the buttons.

I try to contain it, but I can't. His words make me gasp, even though it was probably the quietest gasp to ever pass anyone's lips.

But he notices it.

Shit. The Wi-Fi must be amazing where he's filming.

His eyes meet mine in a flash, and he grins, still looking at me, but I look away from the screen. I can feel my face heat up and my stomach churn. Timothée. Fuck. Why can't you be here right now?

I look up, and our eyes are locked for several long seconds. I want him to reach out from the screen, grab my face, and smash it against mine. Instead, we keep staring at each other. It's fine. We know how we feel. In that small moment, we say so much without actually saying anything. That's the thing between Timothée and me that I love.

"Timmy," I whisper.

"Yes, mon cheri?" he replies, causing me to roll my eyes at his attempt to seem romantic.

"Have you..." I pause. "Have you spoken to Saoirse yet?"

This time, he pauses. "Listen y/n. I'm sorry but I'm really behind in some rest so I'm going to try sleep now but I'll call you tomorrow. Alright?"

Before I can even respond, he's ended the call.

***

(998 words)

A short? Filler? Chapter?

Let me know what you guys want more of and less of.