Calling Him By My Name [Armie Hammer + Timothée Chalamet | Charmie | mxb]

18 | Timothée

It's all a blur.

Armie walking up out of nowhere with pure diabolical intent, then unleashing the power of a bomb cyclone on my poor date, then lights, dizziness, blood. I think I cry. I'm terrified by the sight of Armie's victim, by what the man I love is capable of. But not as terrified as when the guy from the bar starts fighting back. When Armie's arms are restrained, he gives an almighty roar, the likes of which I haven't heard since he injured his shoulder, and kicks with his legs instead. He doesn't stop until his eyes meet my unfocused ones in the din.

My head is spinning. I realize belatedly that I've been sobbing, begging him to stop, and all of a sudden his anger dissipates - just like that. He slumps over and lets himself be dragged away.

The world recedes into white noise, blackness curling at the edges of my vision and swallowing everything whole.

Then, nothing.

•••

A muffled screaming match through the door wakes me from the fog of a deep slumber. As soon as my eyes open, taking in the familiar surroundings of my room, a wave of nausea overtakes me and my hand flies to my mouth. I make a beeline for the bathroom, emptying my stomach into the bowl to the backdrop of the yelling going on in Armie and Elizabeth's room. I can't make out full sentences, except for Elizabeth's sudden, furious exclamation of:

"You almost killed that poor man!"

"Damn right I did," Armie bellows in turn, and the sound of Ford starting to cry in the nursery prompts both to lower their voices. I rise shakily to my feet and take a minute to brush my teeth before heading for the crying baby. I scoop him up out of his crib and rock him gently to shush him. His arms wrap around my neck as I clutch the sweet child to my chest and slump down against the bathroom wall.

There are more words being flung with venom, allowing me to glean the context.

PR team. Near rape. Defence. Media. Lawyers. Irresponsible. Lucky. I glean from the words thrown that the Hammers are forking over a pretty sum to keep the man quiet and keep the incident under wraps from the media. Sounds like, if not for a good team of lawyers, Armie could have faced charges.

For me. For defending my honour.

I've never felt so shitty.

My only consolation is that his victim can't really talk without convicting himself of attempted rape and fighting back, so everything was shut down quietly by an expert legal team. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm the reason Liz and Armie are fighting.

Ford falls asleep again, so I set him back in his crib and sit on the floor against the wall, bringing my knees to my chest and hugging them.

I never wanted to be a homewrecker.

Ten minutes later, I'm still staring vacantly ahead of me with my chin propped on my knees and tears that I don't remember crying scalding my face. Armie looks surprised to see me when he comes into the room. He closes the door behind him, trying to suppress the panic in his features as he mentally calculates the probability that I heard every-fucking-thing.

"Timmy-"

"I know what you were fighting about, Armie. Me."

Armie rushes towards me when the tears start flowing again but I bat his hands away, scrubbing furiously at my eyes. This is all my fault but I had no idea this would be the outcome. He wasn't supposed to get involved. He wasn't even supposed to be there; I had no idea when his name slipped my lips in a moment of anxiety that he'd actually materialize out of thin air and put his safety and reputation in jeopardy.