In Your Eyes ✧ Timothée Chalamet

34 - pick up the phone baby

E L L A

I somehow sit through a two hour lecture on Tuesday without viciously ripping my hair out of my head.

I missed three classes on Monday, because Aaron made me stay home after the whole fainting in the emergency room incident. The doctor that checked on me said I'd lost a lot of blood and was quite dehydrated. He stitched me up pretty good and sent me home with some pain killers but Aaron still made me stay the night and looked after me as best as he could.

'I'm fine.' I'd told him for the seventh time that night.

'Fine?' He'd repeated back to me with his eyebrows raised. 'Define fine. Because if it means emotionally and physically unstable then yeah you're right... you're totally fine.'

I stayed in bed the whole day yesterday.

Not because I didn't want to get out of bed but because Aaron kept smothering me in my room with food and extra pillows and blankets to keep me warm. He'd check if I had a fever every half hour and make me drink three bowls of soup to stay warm.

I hate soup now.

He kept stuffing me with it all day.

He's never been like this. Worried. He's always been protective of me but he wouldn't even leave me alone for a few seconds yesterday. He was so scared I'd do something. Maybe it's because he's just anxious I'll break another lamp and hurt myself some more. Or maybe it's something else, like the fact that Timothée got on an airplane last night without really saying goodbye to me.

Aaron's scared I might lose it.

Maybe he's right to think so.

Timmy had left me a voicemail though, which I listened to a total of twenty times so far, but I never called him back. What was I supposed to say? That I'm pissed at him? For making that stupid decision. I can't be pissed at him. It's his life, it's his choice. That shouldn't make me mad.

But it does. It hurts. And I know I'm selfish for being mad at him for this but I don't care. I'd rather be angry than be sad over his loss. I can handle anger, but I can't handle sorrow. Not when I have so much of it buried deep inside me already.

The lecture ends. I walk out confused considering the professor was speaking gibberish the entire time. Joel catches up with me after the lecture and we talk for a bit. He smiles, laughs, cracks a few jokes here and there about the party he went to last weekend and the cute boy he met up with at a bar.

I laugh and smile along, but little does he know I'm dying inside. I had the shittiest week ever, but he doesn't have to know that. So I leave out all the details and tell him I had a good week with Timmy, not mentioning our big fight and the sort of breakup that went down between us aswell. Joel leaves, and I somehow manage to make it to my dorm. I walk inside expecting it to be empty because Sophia usually has a class now but instead I find her sitting on her bed with her headphones on and her big brown doe eyes staring at me.

The sight of her makes me melt. I'd almost forgotten about Soph. With the hectic week I've had I didn't realize I hadn't spoken to my best friend. I forgot all about her. About Syd. About everything. She takes her headphones off and smiles at me. Just her right lip lifts upwards a bit into a smile, and although it's small it's still more than enough to satisfy me.