Forbidden Fruit •Timothee Chalamet (Stepbrother)

51.Self Control

(♡ Hi, this is a long chapter. Amelia and Timothée are both 24 years old now. There's a lot that went down since they last saw each other, and I tried my best to explain it in this chapter. Also there's a little spicy part at the end.♡)

(Amelia's Pov)

I'm getting dressed when a I see a text from Elle letting me know she's going to be running late to the lunch she planned when we last spoke. It's been a whole week since I saw first saw Timothée again and I still can't get our last interaction out of my head. I keep replaying our conversation on a loop.

The way his green eyes consumed me just by one look, like I was a stupid naïve young girl again. But the old Timothée..the one that used to hold me late at night and whisper sweet nothings into my ear, was no where to be found.

I feel like I'm grieving someone that's still alive. His once warm gaze was hallow in comparison to the bright eyed boy who would stare at me with so much passion, and his once tender demeanor was replaced with a bitterness that makes me feel tremble inside. I'm not stupid enough to think that after all of these years, Timothée wouldn't change but I never would have imagined it would be to this extent.

Timothée was the love of my life. The only man who could ever truly make me go absolutely insane. But now, I feel like if I was to reach out to touch him, the warm skin I use to remember would now instead be icy to the touch. It was surreal to stand before the person who was once love of my life , and speak to each other like we were strangers now. As if coming to grips with the drastic change in the man I once was head over heels for wasn't enough.. now there's Grace.

How could he have ended up with someone any different than me? A 5 foot, overly neat looking, blonde that looks like she works for vogue magazine. Timothée never had a thing for the bland uptight snotty rich girls. He used to despise them actually, so that's why seeing him now next to the complete opposite of the type of girl I would envision to be his type, has sent me down a rapid spiral.

I touch up my lip gloss and run my hands on my own face, observing myself briefly in my reflection. Does he even find me attractive anymore? I'm only 24 years old. I still look the same just a little more mature, but maybe his time has changed and what he likes appearance wise now..is grace. What if she's his new type? I can't expect him to still like the same things he did when he was a 17 year old boy. Preferences change.
I push aside all my thoughts and walk out my front door. I need to silence my thoughts and get of out here.

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I walk into the over-the-top looking restaurant that Elle picked out and try not to roll my eyes when I see it. Of course she'd pick this place out to talk to us. Her taste is just like our mothers.

I see Timothée already seated at the restaurant, his long legs stretched out underneath the table, as he bites his lips and looks perplexed on a phone call. Who ever he's talking to is frustrating him, and it's obvious.

"Just tell them they're not to make any decisions until I get there!" He snaps and his sharp jaw clenches. He sounds so serious. It's odd to see him behave like such an adult. The Timothée I remember never took much serious. His eyes meet mine and he quickly hangs up the phone.

"Well, look who it is," He smirks as he raises and eyebrow, a hint of arrogance in his eyes. I give him a soft smile and sit down quickly, attempting to downplay the fact that my heart is racing just by hearing his voice again.

I can feel Timothée's heated gaze on me, studying my outfit intently. I can't quite tell what he's thinking, but there's something deep and primal in his eyes. It's hard to read him, and I can't tell if he likes what he's seeing or just evaluating me.