timothée chalamet requests

☾ request eighteen

your pov

I wiped my forehead with a burp cloth and then fanned myself with it. "It's okay." I said in a soothing voice, pacing around the nursery.

"Shh..Mommy's got you." I repeated as another shriek blared in my ear.

I screwed my eyes shut, bouncing the baby in my arms to try to get her to fall back asleep.

Relief washed over me when the cries quieted just a bit, but a shriek from the crib beside me rang - showering me with stress again.

"Fuck." I cursed under my breath, setting the baby down in her crib and picking up the other.

"What's wrong?" I asked "Are you tired? Are you hungry?" I begged for an answer like he could give me one.

Soon enough my eyes began to burn and tears fell from them. "Oh, God." I voiced as not one, but two, ear-piercing, screaming cries filled up the nursery in an instant.

As bad as I was about to feel, I set the baby back in his crib and walked out of the nursery, leaving them in there to cry alone.

When babies can't talk and won't stop crying, you'll get frustrated. And when you're frustrated, the best thing you can do is just walk away.

I went down to the kitchen and practically chugged glasses of water to try and get myself to calm down, or cool down so to say.

In the midst of another chugged glass, I heard the front door's lock turn. I set the glass down on the table and raced to the door, swinging it open.

"Timothée." I said in an exhausted tone.

His face contorted to worry. "What's wrong?" he asked, stepping into the house and dropping his things to the floor.

"They won't stop crying." I said as the babies could now be heard from here. "I just had to step away." I sighed, my eyes pooling with more tears.

"No, don't cry," he said, wiping my tears away with his thumbs "I've got it, don't worry."

"But-" I began, about to tell him that I just need his help and could tend to them as well, feeling bad that he's just come home to three criers the second he stepped foot into the house after a long day of meetings and being on set.

"No but's," he interrupts "I've got them. Go back upstairs, shower, wait for me in bed, just relax, okay?" he says.

I nod. "Okay."

He gives me a short kiss, going upstairs in a hurry. I gather his things, although I'm sure he'll tell me I shouldn't have, and take them upstairs with me to our bedroom.

When I settle his things, I undress and go into the bathroom, closing the door. The cries muffle behind them. I turn on the shower and step in, the hot water hitting my skin.

I do my regular shower routine, which only lasts
ten minutes now. I've cut down my own time to tend to the twins nowadays.

When I turn the water off, I don't hear muffled cries. I open the door and the house is settled in a pin-dropping silence.

I grab my robe and put it on, walking over to the closed nursery door. I turn the knob and am met with the sight of Timothée's back.

He turns around at the sound of the creaking door and puts his finger to his lips. I open up the door even more carefully and walk over to him.

I stand next to Timothée, looking into each crib, finding both babies asleep.

Timothée takes me in his arms, my back now laying against his chest.