Desire ☆ Timothée Chalamet

| 43 | keep my secret?

<warning: this chapter gets pretty dark and discusses very disturbing themes. Read at your own caution.>

Daisy takes deep breathes as she processes the words she wants to say. She knows what to say, she just doesn't know how to say it. Forming sentences out of the pictures that she was seeing in her mind was a terrifying thing. Because although she wanted Timothée to know what she went through, she didn't want to scare him away, or have him pity her. That was the last thing she would want.

'Daisy, you can tell me anything. I won't judge you.' Timothée speaks first, clearing the air. There was a lot of tension coming from the both of them. Daisy was afraid of how he might handle her words and Timothée was afraid of the story he was about to hear.

A sad expression forms on Daisy's features and Timothée takes notice of it and frowns. 'But you will judge me.' She says. 'You'll look at me differently and.. and you'll think of me differently. Everything will change after I tell you this.' Daisy tried to explain but she receives a sound of discomfort from Timothée.

'I won't. I promise. Nothing's going to change.'

It takes Daisy another moment to collect herself before she actually begins to form the words that come to her mind 'I was a freshman. I was 15 at the time and I got dragged to a party that I didn't want to go to.'

Timothée furrows his eyebrows, it seemed the story had taken a different route than what he had pictured in his mind. But he listened to her nonetheless. 'Was Skylar there?' he asks, wanting to know the minor details and Daisy simply nods in reply.

'One second we were all dancing and chatting and the next I was left all by myself upstairs in front of a table full of snacks.' Timothée notices a shift in her tone, she sounded less sad and more scared. The look in her eyes was unsettling and he wanted so badly to wipe that look off her face, but he listened instead as she explained to him the events of that night.

'I felt someone grab my waist from behind. I thought it might be one of my friends but when I turned around it was my friends boyfriend.' Daisy fumbles with the hem of her shirt. Twisting it in her hand as a sign of her nervousness. 'They had been dating for a few months. He was a freshman in college and she was a freshman in high school. So he was a few years older than we were.'

That information alone set Timothée off. 'And he was touching you?' he asks, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

'Yeah.' Daisy says looking away from him in a seemingly shameful way.

'Were you friends with him or something?' Timothée asks, trying to justify the boy's actions. But Daisy shakes her head at him in reply.

'No. I hated his guts. He had a bad reputation and my brothers always told me to steer clear of him. He loved to start fights and mess around, and I always kept my distance from him when he would hang out with my friend.' Timothée finally relaxed on the couch, he allowed her to commence her storytelling however, the thoughts in his mind ran wild.

'I could tell he was drunk, and he would not stop being flirty and touchy. He even told me I looked sexy and that he would do me over Emily any day.'

'Emily is the girlfriend I'm assuming?'

'Yes. And she was also my friend. We were close, but not as close as me and Skylar were.'

'So what else happened? He was being an asshole and he was cheating on his girlfriend and then what?' Timothée asks leaning forward in his seat.

'And then, it got serious. He was stronger than me, he pinned me against the wall and kissed me over and over again. I told the people near the snack bar to help me but once I cried for help they rushed down the stairs.'

Timothée had a feeling he knew where this was going. Just thinking about it gave him chills and he could feel the goosebumps start to rise all over his body at the very thought of it. But he didn't speak, he needed to hear her say it.

'He took me into the closest room at the house and he.. he just.' As she tries to describe the events that occurred in that room the images started replaying in her mind. Over and over again she watched as he stripped her of her clothes, took away everything that covered her naked body and threw it onto the ground.

Just picturing what he did to her made Daisy nauseas and she knew she was not in the right state of mind to describe all the events that occurred at that party. So she kept it short and simple and she used a word that she had not used in the past four years. 'He raped me.' She says, making Timothée lose his breath once he heard the word. 'I lost my virginity to him and ever since that night I have been having nightmares about it.'

There was nothing Timothée could say, all he could do was pull her closer to him so he could hold her in an embrace. Daisy accepts and she lets him hold her close. She expects herself to cry, or sob or do something but she just stays that way. Unable to form any sort of emotion as he held her close to him. 'I told one person.' Daisy admits, breaking the silence.

Timothée pulls away and looks at her, a puzzled expression on his face. She had previously stated to him that no one knew. 'I told Emily. I felt like I owed it to her, because if my boyfriend was a rapist I would want someone to let me know. But she didn't believe me.'

'It was so hard to keep the secret. I just kept telling lie after lie after lie. To my parents, to my brothers, to my best friend. And then to you.' Just by the sound of her voice Timothée could feel her pain. It must have been so hard to keep such a secret, but why do it?

'Why Daisy? Why lie? Why couldn't you just tell someone? Was it because you felt like no one would believe you. Because that girl didn't believe you?' It made no sense to Timothée, but he knew there must have been a reason she kept it hidden for all these years. Not telling a single soul.

Daisy shakes her head continuously. 'No. I knew they would believe me. I had no doubts in that.' She says simply, leaving Timothée wondering yet again.

'Then why?' He asks, one tear droplet finding its away from his eye all the way down to his cheek.

'Because I was afraid. Because I knew they would take action. Because I knew they would get lawyers and take the story to trial. Because I knew I'd never get closure. Because of so many things Timothée. So many fucking things.' Timothée's heart quickens as he listen's to her speak, with so much pain and agony.

He could tell she had been suffering from this incident for so long now. And the nightmares were just an extra add-on to her torment. 'Even if my parents got the best lawyers, the boy who did it, he comes from one of the richest most prestigious families in New York. If you thought my family was rich you better meet his because they would get better lawyers and he'd be let off the hook no matter how long we go to court for.'

Timothée groans in annoyance. 'That's not true. It's not about the money Daisy. You're innocent, you're a victim and he raped you.' He says, trying to talk some sense into her.

'I know that. He knows that. But no one else does. We have no proof. No evidence, nothing. And of course it's about the fucking money Timothée, if people get paid they will do anything you ask them. Even if it's at trial. Plus, with or without the money it is damn near impossible to convict a sex offender.' At this point Timothée is left feeling defeated.

There is a hole in his heart, a hole that can't be filled and all he wants to do is dig into her memory and erase that night, all of it. Every moment. She had a fair point, and from her words it seemed she had given it a lot of thought. Hell, she had four years to think about it. But it angered him that he couldn't do anything about it. That she just had to live with what happened to her.

'Thank you Daisy.' He says. 'For telling me.' She looks up at him, nodding her head slowly in reply.

'I trust you to keep my secret.'