ALPHA || TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET

004

The first thing I'm aware of upon waking is how the apartment looks in the daylight. Then, my dry mouth and lightheadedness, reminding me that my alcohol tolerance is not as high as it once was.

I look around the room for an indicator of the time, recalling that my phone is still in my purse, which sits on the floor in the living room.

He's still asleep next to me, having turned over onto his back at some point during the night. His curls rest on his pillow so gently, cheeks pink from slumber. He's even heartbreakingly cute when he sleeps. That's not fair.

I'm glad that I've woken up before him, because I can quietly sneak out as best as I can, before the awkward morning small talk and before, God forbid, he asks so when can I see you again?

I begin slowly, slowly, inching the sheets off of me, moving my legs to the side of the bed. Slowly sitting up, my feet make a slow and calculated landing on the cold hardwood floor. I look back at his still-asleep form.

I quietly tiptoe into the living room, a breeze reminding me that I'm still only in my underwear and the t-shirt Timothèe loaned me. I locate my purse, shirt, and coat where I left them last night, and dig out my phone.

Lara
3 iMessages

12:04 AM
omg you're at his place yes bitch!!!!

12:25 AM
bitch send me an UPDATE so i know he's not an ax murderer

1:10 AM
are u havin sexi time

8:56 AM
hi! just woke up! hungover but worth it. should be home in the next half hour

I hit send and creep back into the bedroom to fetch the rest of my clothes from the floor. He's still knocked out. Heavy sleeper, I suppose. Don't know why my Edward Cullen ass wants to keep staring at him.

I pick up my jeans from the floor and start sliding them on, when my phone suddenly makes a loud ding! that breaks the room's quiet morning aura. I freeze.

Lara
8:59 AM
okay see you soooon

Timothée's eyes flutter open, his head jerking up some seconds later, slept-on curls piled on his head, pieces hanging in his face. He rubs his eyes with his index and thumb. "Hi," he says in a groggy, raspy, morning voice that makes my gut do a somersault.

"Morning," I respond mechanically, going back to sliding my jeans on, quicker now. I sit on the floor and reach for my boots, throwing them on at a rapid pace, and I can already tell he's noticed my demeanor.

"You sleep okay?"

"I did, thanks!" I respond in a fake-happy tone that immediately makes me feel impolite.

"Okay." He cocks his head sleepily, a hand going to his hair, then back down again. He sits up, supporting himself with his arms. "You have someplace to be?"

"Oh, um, work meeting," I lie.

"A meeting."

"Mhmm."

"For what?"

"My, um, my office. Big business meeting."

"You work at an office?"

Inquisitive much? "Yep!"

"You work at a coffee shop and an office? You left that part out last night," he digs.

I pause, defeated, not really remembering just how far our conversation went last night. He's smirking ever so cooly.

"Anyways, thank you for last night, it was fun, um, have a nice day!" I fumble, complete with finger guns, starting towards the door, cursing at myself silently for the atrocious awkwardness.

"Wait hey," he says, kicking himself off the bed and following me to the living room. He's wearing just his boxers, and I'm again reminded of his height, his lanky but muscular build, his attractive, winsome demeanor. "Do you need a glass of water or...anything?" he says, searching and stalling.

"I'm actually okay. Thank you, really. I need to get going now."

But he holds my focus like he's trying to tell me something with his eyes. An electricity lingers between us, souls hungover from a passionate encounter.

He looks down at the ground, then up at me, taking his hand and running it through his hair, resting his hands on the back of his neck, looking at me as if he had just asked me a question and is waiting for an answer. Like telepathically still having a conversation, and we mustn't interrupt or pull away just yet.

I can't fall for it. I can't afford to.

"Thank you for last night," I say, and I really mean it.

He smiles back. "No—thank you. Get home safe."

I sling my jacket and purse over my shoulder and walk out the front door, letting it shut behind me.