Forbidden Fruit •Timothee Chalamet (Stepbrother)

57. You're enough

(Warning: Alcohol use.)
♡ Hi<3 I know the last chapter was heavy, so this one is going to be fluffier. Timothée's character is evolving! Yayyy! Thank you guys so much for being so supportive, I can't believe all the constant support. I hope you guys are enjoying Timothée and Amelia's journey as much as I am when I'm writing it. ♡

☆.｡.:*

I listen to the soothing sound of Timothée's breaths as he lies next to me, his arm draped over me, almost like a soothing lullaby that lulls me. I'm grateful that he's spent the night at the hotel with me after the intense events at the cult. His phone vibrates, and I glance at the screen to see Grace is calling him. I silence his phone, moving it away from me.Despite all my complicated emotions, I feel a flutter of sympathy for Grace. I know she cherished her life with Timothée, loving him and hoping for a future with him, but now that I'm here, I've taken my old place of his main priority once again.

"Is it Grace again?" Timothée asks, speaking gently into my hair while groggily opening his eyes. The vibrations from his phone on the bed must have woken him up.

"Yeah." I reply, my voice soft as Timothée pulls me closer,his body seeking comfort against mine.

He lets out a tired a sigh as he becomes more awake, "I should probably should have a serious talk with her. She needs to come to terms with all of this." I turn to face him,our eyes meeting in the dimness of the early morning light.

"She needs to get used to this. Get used to us." Timothée says softly,through a lazy yet determined gaze. "I've only just got you back Amelia, I'm not about to lose you again." My brain feels muddled with his words,because he never lost me, he let me go.

"What are we going to do?" I murmur, tenderly cupping his face with my hand, my fingers tracing the contours of his lips. "I have to adapt my life entirely, transform it completely, just to make this work." I say with uncertainty.

"It's worth it." Timothée responds confidently. "Life feels so dull when we're apart. It's like living half alive." His words carry a heavy weight of truth.

I look into his eyes, sinking into the deep green hues,and watch as his long lashes flutter with each glance.My fingers gently touch touch his sharp cheekbones.I've always adored the way his locks fall into his face in the morning, creating a messy captivating look. I realize the truth in the silence of that moment- he's worth it all.

An abrupt knock at the door interrupts us,and my heart skips a beat- Could it be Grace? Timothée quickly pulls a shirt on and moves to answer the door, and I follow him closely, curious to who it could be.

"I had a feeling I'd find you here."Elle states, rolling her eyes in Timothée's direction before turning he attention to me. "Are you okay?" She asks with concern. "I heard about what took place last night. Why didn't you tell me you were going to apart of that ritual?" Her eyes search mine, as if she's looking for signs of something broken with me.

"I'm fine,Elle." I reassure her. "I didn't tell you because I knew you'd probably get upset." I admit. There's an odd sense of nostalgia in the air as she looks between Timothée and I.

"This feels like a blast from the past, doesn't it? Me walking in on the two of you having a sleepover." Elle says jokingly. Timothée shoots a glare her way,lighting a cigarette in the background.

"Ansel keeps calling me, drunk as hell. He told Timothée's somehow brainwashed you into all of this." Elle says, glancing over at me, before looking back to Timothée. "And Grace came by to my house last night, sobbing,saying she saw a side of you she's never seen before. She's admitted to herself that you never loved her."