ALPHA || TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET

002

Dark curls hang clumsily around his face as he drunkenly fumbles with his keys, unlocking his apartment door.

Standing close to him, my height surpasses his shoulders by only a few inches; an old fashioned and two vodka sodas later, I'm even more intimidated by his poise and equilibrium, his build, his height. His hands, one which rested on my knee for most of tonight as we talked in the dimly lit bar.

He'd just finished the press tour for Call Me By Your Name a couple months earlier, he told me. With an upcoming project and two films being released in the upcoming year, he'd been taking this time to rest and spend time with his family and friends.

I told him how I'd just graduated last spring with a degree in journalism from NYU; I joked about the luck he'd found in the film industry so early and so young. He laughed at my joke, but looked somewhat far away after I'd said it; his eyes dimmed and he looked down at his lap for a split second. Just as quickly, he was back.

Oh, he was cute. With each sip of drink number three, I found myself leaning into his chest as I laughed more and more, my hand often going to his knee, and I'm almost certain he was scooting his stool closer to mine. I'd forgotten how fun this could be.

He was a magnet, and I was powerless. So easily I could've slid over and sat on his lap, his mouth to my ear with drunken, giggled words, his heat encompassing my small structure.

As the night went on, our words became more slurred, our laughter more fluid. Somewhere in a conversation about Greta Gerwig, he paid the tab and asked me to come back to his apartment.

He finally manages to undo the lock, opening the door and pulling me after him. The dark room is only dimly lit by the city lights peering through the small living room window. I'm assuming he's looking for the light switch. I figure he might show me around, maybe pour another drink and take a seat on the couch before anything.

He switches on a small corner lamp, turning away from me, and catches me off guard.

"So. Wanna...fuck?"

A pause gives away my astonishment, but only because I'm impressed at his forwardness. He turns around to look at me and continues, "I just wanted to get that out of the way. No, I mean, not get it out of the way, but just ask you... Like, for me, that's the vibe I'm getting here, but I also don't want you to feel like you owe me anything, and -"

As he stammers for his words, in response, I subtly take off my trench coat and boots, sliding them to a corner with my foot. I cross my arms.

"Is that okay?" he continues.

The vodka is surging my bloodstream as I slide my shirt off, revealing just my lace bra, waiting for him to stop talking and take the damn hint.

And he does, because suddenly my back is colliding with the wall as his build slams into mine, his savage mouth overtaking me. My hands are gripping the front of his shirt, fueling the sensual atmosphere, both overwhelmed and heavily turned on.

He stops for a second, his breath hard on my skin, his curls having their way around his face. "Holy shit. I've been wanting to do that all night." His voice comes out in a husky whisper.

I shut him up by pulling him against me again, and I can feel my force turning him on, his hands running up and down my back, his arms tightening around me, my hands in his his hair.

"Fuck," he mutters through the action, between our wet lips, out of breath. My leg curls around his and in response, his hands go to my ass and he picks me up, leaning me against the wall, my legs tightening around him. His eyes are like caramel, and he tastes like cherries.

I'm picked up and carried to his bedroom, and he throws me against his queen-sized bed as he crawls on top of me. We both make efforts to tug his shirt off completely, and his lips are making their way down my neck, down my stomach, as he tugs off my pants, pushing my legs apart and beginning his work on me.

As I grip the bed sheets on either side of me, his power overtakes, as does the liquor. He is mine, and oh, I am his. I am his.

For tonight.