Forbidden Fruit •Timothee Chalamet (Stepbrother)

50. Seven

✘ 𝟽 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛✘

Timothée jolts awake,his eyes flicking open as he repositions himself before he move's Grace's arm off his naked chest. He doesn't sleep much these days, actually, If he really thinks about it, he can't remember the last time he had a full night of sleep.

He looks out the window of his exquisite New York city penthouse while his thoughts take over, leaving him feeling morose and low as usual. He hates mornings for this very reason, in the quietness of the sunrise, he can't help but reflect. One thing is for certain though, everything has changed in Timothée's life since he was in high school. He doesn't even know who that person is anymore.

He takes the box of Marlboro reds off of the coffee table and places a cigarette in his mouth. That's one of the few things that hasn't changed about him since high school, he still chain smokes like there is no tomorrow. He walks over to his large closet, that's more of a room then a closet in technical terms, and scans all his expensive suits before finally picking one.

His phone rings and he picks it up like it's a nuisance, "Hello?" He answers detached.

"Timothée! Where are you? Did you forget about the big meeting today? Don't make me wait."

"I'm on my way." He says as he buttons his suit sleeves and walks out the door.

Timothée strides over to the limousine that waits for him at the same time everyone morning. "Good morning Sir," he's greeted by his trusted driver.

"Good morning." He responds as he looks out the window. As he's driven through the lively streets of New York he wonders,

How he ended up here? How did he end up becoming exactly who he swore he'd never become?

₊⊹˙⋆✮

Somewhere not too far, the upper east side to be exact, Amelia's sipping on some coffee while grading papers. She won't lie and say she isn't proud of herself for becoming a teacher, because it's the literal opposite of the life she the thought she'd be living years ago. She thought she'd be a dancer once and would follow her dreams of going to Julliard, but life had other plans.

She used to be so rebellious and defiant. Some would even say, addicted to chaos..but now to her surprise she finds joy working with children as a kindergarten teacher. Her once impulsive and fierce personality has grown to become more subdued and poised. She's grown to become more like her mother in a lot of ways. She use to mock her moms way of living, as it seemed so robotic, but now she feels the dread that comes with acceptance when she goes to brunch on the upper east side every sunday with her friends.

A knock on the door rips her eyes off of her student spelling tests and gets her on to her feet as she hurries quickly to open it.

"Mom?" her eyes widen when she see's her mother standing in front of her, holding a small bouquet of yellow flowers.

She wasn't expecting her mother, she always calls before she visits.

"Hi Honey." Her mom says with a oddly regretful smile but Amelia doesn't seem to notice.

"Sorry," Amelia says as she wipes the crumbs from her breakfast croissant off of her skirt. "I was just grading some papers, I wasn't expecting you. Come in." She says to her mother as she opens the door widen for her to enter.

Her mother walks passed her like she is holding onto a secret and Amelia is curious as to what it is.

"I know I never just pop in in announced but it was imperative I speak to you.." Her mother looks quite nervous as takes a seat in the dining room.