delicate. / timothée chalamet au

eight.

"you just gonna stand there awkwardly or are you gonna join me?" tim says over his shoulder. 
well now i have no choice, i think to myself. but i'm secretly grateful roger texted me in that exact moment.

i begin to walk towards him. tim hands me a cig and begins to light it up for me. it's then i notice his wrists. he's wearing a grey short sleeved shirt, which i've never seen him in before. come to think of it, he's only worn hoodies or long sleeved shirts when i've been with him. i gasp when i see the healed faded lines on his wrists. the smoke i inhale when i gasp speeds down my throat very painfully causing me to start coughing.

"are you okay?" tim asks setting down the lighter. "yeah, no i'm totally fine, it just hit me out of nowhere." i say in between coughs. we stay quiet for a bit while i try to soothe my throat before tim changes the subject.

"no need to thank me or anything." tim says casually.
i look up from my cig. "for what? having the terrible idea of saying you were my ex or then having the even worse idea of acting like you were gonna kill yourself?" i start out being very light hearted and sarcastic but end being very serious and harsh questioning him. his smile slowly starts to fade and he looks away from me and out the window down to the cars moving below us.
"well it got you out of there, didn't it?" his voice sounding annoyed. i begin to feel bad for sounding harsh. i mean he really didn't have to do me the favor of calling me in the first place. and he's right, even if it was a stupid way to get me out of that date, at least i'm out. i shuffle a bit, "you're right, i'm sorry." i say genuinely. "and thank you-- for calling, and then really committing to the lie to roger himself." he smirks down to me when i say that.
"i know right... like where's my oscar?" tim jokes.
"hmm... one day my friend, one day." i joke back.
he smiles down at me, eyes almost sparkling in the sunlight.

as i gaze at his green eyes i become lost in thought. i'm unsure whether or not i should address how uncomfortably convincing he was over the phone, or the scars on his wrist. maybe i shouldn't, it's not my place, but before i even can think about it i'm saying, "you were almost too convincing." his eyes are trained on me. "what do you mean?"
"it almost felt like-- you might actually feel that way... like you might actually be thinking of doing it?"

there's an uncomfortable silence.

tim pauses and takes a long drag of his cig. his lips look pink and smooth almost like he has a habit of always putting chapstick on them. and in that moment i was actually envious of that cig between his lips. i wonder how my lips would feel on his... is he a soft kisser or a rough one? for some reason i see him as soft even though he has a sort of rough nature about him. ugh, how badly i want to feel his lips on mine and--

"well, then." tim interrupts my thoughts and my eyes dash from his lips to look to his eyes. tim pulls his cig off of his lips and then smiles tightly putting out his cig and tossing it out the window. he walks past me and sits on his bed, looking over to me, but pauses before asking, "don't you know?" i look down at him still standing by the window. "know what?"

"i just figured damien would've already told you." i put out my cig and tossed it out the window and sat on tims beds leaving a bit of distance between us. "about what?" i ask, starting to get concerned. "about me." he says shifting uncomfortably, his fingers tracing his wrist. i pause, thinking back in my memory if damien ever did tell me something about tim. come to think of it, i always avoid going into detail on my friendship with tim to damien for some reason. whenever damien brings him up i get fidgety and try to change the subject and damien just gives me a funny look but never questions me on it. but i guess i'm starting to understand more of why i act that way whenever tim is brought up.

"no, damien and i only talk about my issues or when he's having problems with his boyfriend." i joke trying to keep the conversation lighthearted because i can tell it's going down a different darker path.
"oh, well-- see for yourself then." tim holds out  his left wrist out to me.
my eyes are trained on his, unable to look down at his wrist. he nods me on, sort of like he's saying it's okay for me to look. almost like saying he trusts me with this. i look down and frown. i lightly trace my index finger along his faded scars. i clear my throat, "so-- you did try once"?
"a few times." he says, eyes flickering up to mine. he doesn't seem uncomfortable, or vulnerable. he seems to be completely comfortable talking about this.

wow-- will i ever be able to get to that point myself? that's the goal right? to learn from your past weaknesses and be able to grow and even help others going through similar situations. but-- keeping in my issues has become second nature for me, and every time i actually open up to someone, it feels like the whole world freezes and i'm in an alternative planet and then instantly regret it. because i either feel like i said too much, or they misunderstood me, or will only see me in this sad, dark light for the rest of our relationship. happened to me throughout all of highschool, and is now something i avoid at all costs. i never want to give people the power of knowing too much about me and holding my insecurities against me.

i take my finger off of tims scars. i'm twiddling my thumbs on my lap, unable to think of what to say in this sort of situation. i normally by default know exactly what to say, but right now i have nothing. maybe it's because i've never been in this kind of situation before, or because this is with tim, but i feel nervous to say the wrong thing so i decide to say nothing at all. i look up at him and see his eyes trained on me still.

"i haven't scared you from being my friend, have i?' i scoff at him.
"it'll take a whole lot more than that to scare me off timmytim." he rolls his eyes and laughs in relief.

we both share a comforting glance at each other before both saying "gta?' at the same time.
"jinx." i say. "jinx." he says at the same time.
we point at each other in surprise, "hey, you know what they say--" i start.
"great minds think alike?" tim finishes my sentences.

"exactly." i wink at him. "now hand me the controller so i can school you once again in gta."
he puts his arms up in defeat and hands me the controller. "i'm just as excited as you, eskedit!" he shouts, scooching next to me placing his enormous headphones on my ears.
i feel genuine comfort wash over me, and now am glad i didn't run like i would have.

fucking roger... i'm gonna have to thank him one day for sending me that text.

~~
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