timothée chalamet requests

☾ request twenty two

your pov

I practically dragged myself up the steps of our home, my purse feeling like a thousand pounds on my shoulder after coming home from work.

I dug my hand into the mess of it, looking for my keys. After a few agitating seconds, I found them and unlocked the door.

The house was dark to my surprise, Timothée's usually on the couch watching TV or reading; waiting for my arrival.

I kicked off my shoes and hung my purse up, stepping a few feet into the entry hallway.

The floors creaked under my step like they always do, but I cut them silent when I heard a few laughs. And a faint "She's home!"

Curious and confused, I walked down the hall and made my toward the kitchen, hearing more giggling and dropping of items.

Practically tiptoeing, I flicked on the lights to the kitchen - all the noise stopping.

I walked around the kitchen island. "What are you two doing?" I laughed.

"Nothing." Timothée said, his hands behind his back. Our daughter close to his side with her face hidden under his arm.

"It didn't sound like nothing." I say, sitting on the floor with them.

"Just playing around, nothing more." he smiles.

"Hmm," I say "okay. I'm going to go upstairs and shower."

"Alright." Timothée says, kissing me quickly.

I stand up and leave the kitchen, going to hide in our pantry that's a few feet away. Then, I hear them start up noise again.

And I open the door, rushing over to them.

"Gotcha!" I exclaim, scooping up our daughter in my arms. And I'm quick to notice a difference in her face.

It's smeared with chocolate ice cream and bits of sprinkles. She laughs, her rainbow stained teeth on full display.

I look at Timothée as he takes his hands from out behind his back, with a guilty look on his face, the pint of ice cream in them.