Young Blood ~•~Timothée Chalamet

Chapter 13

"It's not you, it's me."

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

The world felt kinder to me when I was with him. I hadn't snorted anything in a few days. I had avoided my parents. I hadn't even checked in on Jade. All I wanted to do was talk to him, touch his skin and be enveloped by his presence. I couldn't get enough of Timothée. He lifted my darkness and kept me afloat. There was nothing more to it, I needed him to survive.

Timothée and I were currently at LACMA. It was reassuring to be surrounded by all the artwork. Knowing that the world was full of so much pain and that it could be beautiful settled my gnawing aches.

He laced our fingers together, pulling me off to another room.

"Look at his use of shading on the sky," Timothée exclaimed, "it's so depressing."

"Melencolia I," I stated, "originally engraved by Albrecht Dürer."

"Oh, so you know your art?" He chuckled.

"I love Dürer's work." I blushed. "It's like looking into some deranged fantasy. I can't help but be fascinated."

His eyes gazed my way with a lazy smile.

I giggled. "I feel like a nerd."

"Don't." He leaned towards me and we kissed. I felt endangered, there were so many faces, so many people that could be looking. I couldn't help but pull away. He looked saddened. "We just need to be careful," I reminded him.

He rolled his eyes.

"People might recognize you," I pointed out. "I don't need to be in any photos until Jade knows."

"Okay." He stepped away to look at something else. I felt his interest evaporating, I pushed myself towards my life raft.

I wrapped my hands around his bicep, pulling him closer to me. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," He assured, rubbing my back, "we probably should be more careful, unfortunately."

I glanced up at the painting in front of us. A girl sat by her window sill staring outside. The sky out her window was a mess of dreary grey. Her pale skin was littered with mellowing swirls of purple stains. She was trapped by the confining walls of this frame, never knowing anything more. At least I could go home. At least the sky hanging over my head could birth new colors, new horizons. But she...she would be here every night wasting away for the rest of time.

"Come with me," I said, pulling him towards the double-doors.

We walked outside to more exhibits, the spring breeze tickling my skin. My jaw clenched from the cool air, so I walked closer to Timothée, hoping he'd share some of his warmth. Oh, how the day was beautiful and we were here and the dangly noddle exhibit was there, beckoning us to come closer.

He led us over, pushing past each strip of plastic to clear me a path, guiding us farther and farther to the center. Then we were there and with the noodles dangling over our shoulders, the world was far away. We were lost in this jungle, we were lost in each other and I couldn't have cared less now if someone was staring.

•••

It had been a good hour since we got back from the museum. Now, the two of us were hanging out in my room sipping aimlessly on an opened bottle of wine. He passed me the Cabernet and I chugged a bit of it. My nerves were diminishing.

He walked over to my bookcase and started skimming through the volumes. His eyes lighting up as his fingers danced across the bindings. I nestled the bottle between my legs and smiled at his delicate reactions.