LIVING//timothéeXreader//completed

part 7: holding

timothée laid face down on his mattress, his curls covering his face and his blankets partly kicked off the bed. the blinds to his windows were closed completely, his room devoid of any light.

a quiet snore escaped his mouth as you sat up in his bed, staring into the darkness. you looked at your phone to see if you had gotten any new messages. the clock read 2:08 am.

(3) new messages from
dad

saturday , 2:08 am

dad
> She's doing better now, y/n
> She's in a stable enough condition for me to go home, but I think I'll stay...
> She's gonna be okay, it wasn't that bad of a fall...

you took a deep breath in and closed your eyes, squeezing your phone in your hands. your chest and throat were tight, your finger nails sore from your teeth biting them, and your eyes began to well up.

you looked over at timothée, although you couldn't see much. you shined the light of your phone on him.

he looked so peaceful when he slept. the faint stubble above his top lip, his long eyelashes, the sharp curves of his nose and his jaw. the way his shirt draped over his shoulder blades and back like silk on a marble statue. the sound of his rhythmic breathing.

it was all so beautiful. it was all so overwhelmingly beautiful.

you leaned in closer to him and his scent lingered around your nose. the corner of his mouth was turned up ever so slightly, but enough that you would notice... if you were looking. and you were.

between faint snores he let out tiny hums and moans, his eyes fluttering gently. he must've been having a nice dream.

that is, until his eye slowly peaked open to look up at you. you quickly turned your phone away from his face and wiped the streaks of tears that had stained your cheek.

timothée sat up with a sense of urgency, wrapping his long fingers around your arm.
"y/n, is everything okay?" he asked, his voice full of sleep. he leaned over and turned the dim light on.

he rubbed his eyes so he could look at you, who was staring at any random spot in the room but him. "darling, whats wrong?" he whispered.

"my mom...she fell," you sighed, shaking your head. "my dad called me like 4 hours ago, you were asleep so i went to the kitchen," you paused to take a deep breath in.

"how did that happened?" timothée asked, his eyebrows pushed together and his lips slightly parted.

"she tried to get out of bed without waking my dad up for help, and she fell and hit her head" you said. timothée watched as a small tear fell from your eye. you looked down at your lap and wiped it away.

you held your tears back, partly because you were embarrassed, and partly because you were just too tired to cry.

"sometimes she thinks she a lot stronger than she is. than she used to be, at least..." you told him. "she just needs to realise that it's okay to ask for help. she's half paralysed, she can't just go and do everything on her own," you began to sputter out your train of thought until you became aware of his gaze on you.

you looked at him and his puppy-dog-stare. "i'm sorry, that's really scary, darling. is she gonna be okay?" he asked, his whispers caressing your ears.

you nodded your head. "my dad said she's in stable condition. it was just scary... so out of the blue," you said, almost questioning it.

timothée nodded his head, hearing you. "life is like that sometimes... out of the blue..." he said as he shuffled around in his bed. he pushed himself up against his head board, grabbing your waist and gently scooting you closer to him.