ALPHA || TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET

028

The hair on the back of my neck stands up.

All of this feels so strange, because he's never been here before. He's never been in my apartment, my home, my head place of comfort. It's almost like I've always escaped to another world with him, always coming home to reality at the end of the day. But this other world and my home are now colliding.

I reach onto the table and grab my phone, reading the lock screen.

Timothée, now
I think I'm here

I try to regain my composure, standing up and smoothing my shirt out. And realizing I'm still not wearing pants.

It's interesting, because even with the multiple times we've seen each other naked, I'm still horrified at the fact that I was about to open the door without pants on. I'm running back into my room, digging through my drawers for a clean pair of shorts.

My phone begins ringing. Timothée.

"Hello!" I place the phone in the cook of my neck, still searching for shorts, pulling clothes from out of my laundry basket.

"Hey. I think I'm outside."

Hearing his voice on the phone is so different, like a new realm, a third dimension. His voice sounds different. I'm suddenly more thankful that I decided to grant him this portion of access into my life.

"Marley?"

"Hey! Sorry, heard the doorbell, just not wearing pants, give me one sec."

"That excited to see me?"

"I'll be there in just a second!"

I end the call and toss the phone, finally pulling out the first pair I find, a pair of Adidas shorts. Muttering fuckfuckfuck under my breath, I pile the rest of the clothes back into the laundry basket, stuffing it back into the closet.

I look at my discombobulated self in the mirror one last time, running my hands through my hair, smoothing out my shirt and shorts, taking one last deep breath.

Finally, I go back out, turn the handle on the front door, and open it.

His hands are in his pocket, eyes looking down the apartment complex hallway. He wears a denim jacket over a grey t-shirt, with dark jeans and white sneakers. At the sound of the door, his eyes turn to me, and his face becomes the soft, tender smile I've come to be so fond of. The one that melts me into a puddle.

"Hi."

"Hi," I'm able to muster out, embarrassed at how nervous I must seem right now. How disheveled I must look. I step out of the doorway, allowing him space to come in.

He walks ahead of me into the living room, and I shut the door behind me. He takes a brief look around, then waits for me to be at his side.

"Finally. So this is where Marley lives."

"Yep. This is me." I gesture around, hands on my waist.

"And best friend too?"

"Her too. She's actually staying in Brooklyn tonight. Do you want something to drink or anything?" I ask. I'm embarrassed at how awkward I'm being, how awkward all of this suddenly feels.

"I'm good for now. Thanks."

"Okay."

We stand turned towards each other, his hands in his pockets. My arms crossed, staring at the ground. I can feel his eyes on me.

"So what'd you do today?" he starts.

"I was here all day. Did some writing for some jobs."

"Oh, what kind of jobs?"