timothée chalamet imagines

lips

your pov

"That's what I told him last week..we had to go all the way around..she missed the train..lunch got cancelled..ripped my script.."

I have no idea what he's saying.

None of it makes sense, I can't concentrate.

His sentences were cutting in and out.

All I could look at were his lips, all I could think about were his lips.

How soft they were. How they were the perfect shape, perfect color. How every word he said fell off them so easily, so smoothly. How good they felt against mine.

He waved his hand in front of my face.

I jumped and repeatedly blinked my eyes.

"Wha- What?" I shook my head and came out of my daze.

"Are you paying attention to anything I'm saying?" he asked.

"Of course."

"What was I saying just now?"

"Something about..hmm..you didn't get..no she didn't understand.."

I gave up on trying to guess.

He looked at me annoyed.

"I'm sorry." I laughed and laid my head on his shoulder.

"Why do you never pay attention to my stories?" he asked playing with my hair.

"I get distracted."

"By what?"

"Your lips."

"My lips?"

"Yeah."

"You mean these lips?"

He cupped my face in his hands and pursed his lips like a fish.

"Those lips." I said kissing them.