Forbidden Fruit •Timothee Chalamet (Stepbrother)

47.Every part of you

(Warning:sexual content,smut,drug use.)

I smooth out the front of my light pink dress in my vanity mirror. Today is the winter formal. I touch up my lipstick as I take a good look at my reflection. Thankfully, my jaw has recovered and there is only a hint of bruising left over on my face from my accident. I cover what's left of the discoloration with concealer and take a deep breath as I take one last look at myself. My hair is in tousled curls and the shimmery iridescent eyeshadow suits my eye color well.

"Mia?" Elle says as she pushes my door open and walks up behind me. "You look like a..dream." she says with a soft smile playing on her face.

"Thank you." I say, as I smile back at her.

"Ansel is waiting for you downstairs." Elle says while still looking at me as if she's in awe.

"Actually..I couldn't wait to see my beautiful girlfriend any longer." Ansel's voice suddenly appears from beside Elle and looks me up and down.

"I'm at a literal loss of words." His eyes widen as he scans me." You look gorgeous, almost as if that dress was made for you."I let out a little laugh, and look down at me heels. The compliments leave me feeling a little embarrassed.

"Um.." Elle clears her throat "Just a heads up.. Timothée came home and he's downstairs with Natalie. I guess mom got you guys a limo to drive you all to the formal."

I haven't seen Timothée since that night he held me until I fell asleep. When I woke up the next morning, he was already gone and the only remembrance of us was the painful conversation we had the night before about us splitting up.

"I'm surprised he even showed up." Ansel scoffs. "from what I heard he's all sorts of fucked up right now."

"What do you mean? What's wrong with him?" I ask him with a glare.

Elle and Ansel look at each other in confusion for a moment before both looking back at me with squinted eyes that insinuate I should already know what's wrong with him..and I do. They're talking about the drugs.

"He's completely drown himself in drugs hasn't he?" I ask Elle hesitantly and she only nods with a sad look on her face. I bite down on my lip and suck in my breath.

"Should we get going?" Ansel asks as he breaks the sorrow that's filled my room.

I take Ansel's hand and we start to head downstairs. The sound of the clicking of my heels on the wooden floor stop seems to stop Timothée and Natalie from whatever conversation they're in. She sits between his legs on the sofa, and runs her polished fingers through his hair. My stomach sinks as my eyes land on them. Timothée is already looking at me, his eyes piercing through me, with an expression of longing and craving exuding from him.

He looks skinny and frail and has these oddly attractive dark circles under his eyes, yet he's still so handsome and perfect at the same time,in a perfectly tailored suit. He looks at me with Natalie in between his legs, and I look at him, but no words are spoken from our mouths. I can tell just how he's feeling just by the look in his eyes.

This all feels so wrong. He should be taking me to the formal. He's the one who I should be experiencing all of this with, not Ansel.

"Amelia! You look like a princess!" I hear my mom burst into the living room with her fancy camera in hand.

"Mom..are the picture's really necessary? I barely want to go to this as it is." I say,crossing my arms in annoyance and feel Ansel hold the side of my waist.