ｂｅｎｅｆｉｃｉａｌ く胃に [timothée chalamet]

002

classes start in officially two months. i am more than excited to start school, but i am a little nervous. i'm a creative writing major, i've been doing nothing but writing these past few weeks. i'm trying to practice for the future and for when i get to school, but it's hard when i don't have anyone to have read it and critique it.

i've developed a huge problem though, and it's about the boy next door, timothee. i can't get him out of my mind, no matter what i do. it also doesn't help that the walls are thin, so i can hear everything him and his girlfriend say or do.

just the other day i heard him telling her how much he loved her, and i just felt very strange. it felt like i was almost third wheeling when i wasn't even in the room or apart of the couple.

it's been around two weeks since he asked to borrow my phone, and i really wish he'd speak to me again. i've been trying to come up with an excuse to speak to him, but i can't come up with shit. i thought that i could maybe ask him for directions somewhere, but that could make me sound stupid, and i don't want to be thought of as stupid. maybe i could ask him to hold my spare key, but that could make me seem like i'm coming on to strong.

i was stuck in an idea block, when i got a sudden knock on the door. i jumped up from my seat, then looked myself over in the mirror. when i realized i looked fine, i made my way to the door and opened it.

timothee stood in the doorway, a small grin on his face. "hello, again."

i blushed and allowed a smile to creep onto my face, "hi." i noticed he had one of his hands hidden behind his back, "what are you hiding?"

he laughed, then pulled a roll of toilet paper out from behind his back. "a housewarming gift."

i laughed lightly and took it as he handed it to me, our fingers brushing past each other. "well, thank you very much. you know, you're probably the friendliest new yorker that i've ever met."

he took a sarcastic bow and smiled again, "why thank you."

i turned around and walked into my apartment, "you're welcome to come in, if you'd like." i suggested, which caused me to hear and "okay," and the sound of the door shutting.

"want anything to drink?" i offered from the bathroom, now walking towards the kitchen.

"no, i'm good. but thanks for offering." i nodded.

"so, how long have you lived in new york?" i asked, pouring myself a small cup of hot tea.

"my whole life actually, i grew up in hell's kitchen," he answered, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels.

i nodded, taking a seat down on a hanging wicker chair. "cool, sit down." i motioned to one of the open seats.

"so, why did you move here?" timothee asked, getting comfortable in his seat.

"i'm starting the semester at nyu this fall, so..." my voice trailed off, and he nodded.

"what's your major?" he asked curiously.

"creative writing. realistic, right?" i joked, shaking my head at myself lightly.

he shrugged, "i think that if you are passionate about it, anything can be realistic." his response caused me to smile.

"well thank you, that's a first." i sighed, taking a sip of my tea.

he leaned towards me, resting his elbows on his knees. "what do you mean?"

i set down my cup on a small coffee table and let out a long sigh, "well, my dad doesn't want my to be a writer, he thinks that i should be an engineer or some shit like that." i crossed my legs up to my chest.

"that must suck. i don't know what i would do if my parents didn't support me like that."

i shrugged, "it's whatever, he'll get over it."

we ended up talking for hours, just chatting about small shit that didn't even matter. it was nice to have someone to talk to, someone who was friendly to me. i missed that.

some how, we ended up starting to talk about palm reading, don't ask me how.

"you've seriously never had your palm read?" i asked, a small giggle hiding behind my voice.

"no, never." he laughed, which caused me to shake my head at him.

"well today that is all going to change." i got up from my seat and moved to sit next to him.

"what are you doing?" he joked, while i grabbed his hand. we met eyes for a moment, feeling some sort of connection.

i broke the eye contact and looked at his palm deeply, "i'm reading your palm."

he nodded, "well okay then." he said in defeat.

i carefully looked over the creases in his palm and then smiled when i realized what each one was.

"okay, so you see this line right here?" i laughed, trancing my hand over the crease near the thumb, "this is the line of life."

he chuckled, "mhhh, very interesting." his response was lined with sarcasm.

"shut up!" i pushed him playfully then continued reading the palm. "this crease," i traced my finger over another crease, "this is the line of loyalty."

he looked down at his hand, "why is it so short?" he asked, slightly intrigued.

"because you aren't a loyal person, you cheat." i spoke my words carefully, hoping to not offend him.

he said nothing.

"and this one," i traced my finger over the longest crease, "this is the line of love." 

i looked up at him, and our eyes met. i still held onto his hand, and watched his eyes flicker from my eyes to my lips.

soon we found that we were leaning into each other, and then our lips met.