Imagine/one shots-Timothée Chalamet

「Ballet」

"Y/n point your toes more and that turning would be perfect." Timotheé calls out.

Your body is drained and just lifting your leg is taking up all your energy. You needed to perfect this dance before you head off to Italy and the United Kingdom. Timotheé is your ballet instructor son, but she's got held up unexpectedly today. Timotheé has been all over the world dancing in the most glorious halls in the world so you know you're in good hands. You go back and run through the dance and prep up...and spot and Spot and hit-and spot and-! Your body slaps on the wood floor and you let out a embarrassing shriek before the wind getting knocked out of your lungs. The cutest guy that all the dancers has a crush on, including me, saw me fall on the ground like that.

Timotheé gasps and rushes over to me and I just stare at the ceiling, quietly questioning my existence. Timotheé folds my upper body up and I groan sitting up. You place your hot flashed face in your hands. You didn't want Timotheé to know you were embarrassed, so you'd rather look frustrated.

"Hey Y/n it's okay those thirty turns in swan lake are no joke and you're doing one of the hardest ballet in the world right now but you're doing great....look maybe we're both overworking you let's take a break ." He stands up and walks over to the cool off station.

You start to stretch, by stretching your burning quads first.  Timotheé walks back with water and a towel. You say a small thanks and pad the sweat off your neck and face, as you drink you water. You shift and a soreness speaks out, you then realize that you've bruised your elbow. I sigh and drop my arm.

"Timotheé this is hard I can't even dance with the people I'm supposed to because I'm stuck in New York and I've been learning this choreography for two months already." You vent.

You drop you towel on the ground and Timotheé pats your shoulder.

"Look Y/n Your sponsors and my mom see you potential- shit you make me scared with your pace. But I know nobody here but you can perfect this I can see it- but if you don't see it you're going to fail and make a fool of yourself...so please cheer up." He chuckles.

You're flattered that he said that about you. You grin and nod.

"Thanks..." you thank him.

"I can only go up to twenty one turns but I'll practice with you if it'll make you feel like you have a partner."

You two stand up and grab ahold of your things to move aside.

"You know swan lake?" You ask surprised. "Yeah I sort of dance by myself when everyone leaves." He gushes.

He parts from me and walks towards his gym bag. He signals me to turn around as he changes and lord it took strength not to turn around. His soft grunt fill the empty space as he fits into his dancing belt. You stare off at the big windows and stretch your ankles to pass time. The slap of his tights signal he's done. He quickly ties his shoes on and stretches while doing so.

"Okay were gonna start from the beginning and move up to your last scene." He instructs.

You nod your head, grab the stereo remote and start.
-
You spot and turn, holding up your body. Trying to keep your twitching lips to hold a smile. You stop and go to the side like you're supposed to and luckily catch your breath. Timotheé takes your place and hits every turn perfectly. He moves to the side and you dance your way towards him, holding your leg back and pointed then shuffling yourself near him. You spin and embrace him without contact like in the ballet. You take yourself back making sure everything is going graceful yet excitedly. Your right arm going up and down as Timotheé hunts you across the floor.

You go into your turns and Timotheé lands behind you making a ilusión that he's turning you. You stop right on count 5 and prep. Timotheé hands land on your waist and lifts you into the air soon to help you land onto your feet. You both pull apart a do the pose and come back. He grabs your hand and gets on his knees. His pink lips make contact with your hands and you almost miss your count from being flustered. You pull one arm up and throw your upper body back, as he rests his cheek on your other hand.
-
The Audience is in a standing ovation at the performance . Which makes all the struggles of  learning the dance worth it. The lights dim and the curtains close. You quietly pad offstage. At backstage dancers friend and family are there while dancers talk to them breathlessly, but you don't have anyone to congratulate you. You walk over to somewhere quiet and catch your breath. Your parents are all the way at New York and the don't have all the money in the world to fly over to Italy.

"Y/n." A familiar voice calls out.

You look up and your jaw drops in front of you. Timotheé has the prettiest black and white roses in his hand as he trots over to you. You stand up and embrace him in a hug. Timotheé and you have gotten close after that day when he helped you, but you didn't know he'd travel almost across the world to see you dance.

"You did amazing Y/n I'm so proud of you." He cheers.

He pulls away and hands me the bouquet of flowers.

"I got these for you too." He grins.

You can't hide your hot face and you twisting smile. Luckily you just danced your ass off so the redness isn't anything. You admire the roses. You really appreciate that Timotheé did this for you, he's really the best .

"What brings you here anyways?" I ask. "I couldn't miss your performance and I have to film."

You nod your head, soon he clears his throat.

"I know you're tired but would you like to have dinner with me?" He stumbles out.

In the inside, you do your happy dance, but on the outside you remain calm.

"Are we hanging out or is it a date?" You tease. "Date." He answers confidently.