ALPHA || TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET

031

The first thing I see when my eyes flutter open is the sunlight peeking through my window. Beams of golden light cascade over the room, a gentle yellow morning glow. I peek at the streaks of light on my ceiling.

Yellow is a color commonly associated with feelings of happiness, and it might be exactly what I feel when I remember the arms wrapped snugly around my waist. The head nestled just behind mine on my pillow, and the peaceful, steady breathing nearly tickling my neck. My arms rest on his, which lie locked around my waist.

Slowly, I feel subtle awareness returning to his limbs, most likely at the movement of my head. The pillowcase fabric rustles gently, and suddenly I feel fingers being intertwined with mine, just below my chest. Ever so gently and slow, Timmy combs my hair out of the way with his fingers, resting his lips on the skin behind my neck.

I shift my position, lying on my back and meeting his face. The green in his eyes glows from the sun, his lashes fluttering as he looks at me, finally meeting my eyes, a tranquil smile now stretched across his face.

"Hi," I whisper. My fingers toy through his tousled bedhead of brown waves.

"Hi," he whispers back. "Good morning."

I hadn't woken up next to anyone in my bed in a long time; this feels so new, so surreal. Feeling the warmth of his body so close to mine feels like comfort, and a new kind of it, one I haven't ever experienced or known.

I gently graze his arm, which still lies draped over me. And we lie there for a moment again, one of silence, simply looking at each other. The brown curls tousled over the pillow, his cheeks pink from being asleep, eyes still nearly half shut. Knowing that he leaves an eternal indentation on my pillow, in my sheets.

His hand reaches, fingers intertwining with mine, delicately playing with them. I don't think I want him to let go. I shift to my side, and he presses his lips to the back of my hand.

"So you're not going to try to leave or anything, are you?" he asks in his croaky morning voice, with a smug grin.

It makes me giggle. "Unfortunately, no. I live here. So if anything, I'll just resort to kicking you out."

"Kicking me out? So soon?"

But I don't feel like joking, so instead my hand goes around to his back, rolled up into a loose fist as I pull myself into his chest. He buries his nose in my hair, arm clutched around my shoulders.

We lie together long enough for us to have fallen asleep again, our groggy, sleepy bodies somehow like magnets to one another, neither of us making any effort to get up. Then suddenly, I feel what's between his legs; to be brief, we end up taking care of it.

Afterwards, I collapse on top of him and we're giggling and kissing. His fingers graze up and down my thighs as I sit atop him; "you're beautiful, you're so fucking beautiful," he's whispering.

"Hey. Are you hungry?" I ask, lying down next to him again.

"Yeah, I can eat you up any day."

I hit his chest playfully as he laughs, his nose scrunching, well-aware just how cringey his innuendo.

I start again, "For real. Are you hungry? I can make something. Or do you want to go somewhere?"

"I'd love to eat breakfast. Really." His eyes dart over my shoulder, and reaches over to his phone on the nightstand. He's looking at the time, I realize. "I uh, need to be somewhere later." Something on his face has gone dim.

"Oh — that's okay. Do you want to get dinner, maybe? Or I can make dinner. It's up to you."

A smirk reappears. "A proper date's definitely overdue."

"Let's go. Let's go out to the city. We can dress up, and I can make reservations—" I feel myself being carried away by my string of emotions, when I notice that the smirk on his face is gone again. I search his face in confusion.

"I won't be free tonight either."

"Oh. Hey, it's okay. Maybe later this week? I'm free most nights."

And then I feel myself propelling downward, spiraling into a light panic. Because of fucking course. He's having second thoughts. Of course he doesn't want this, or me, or any of it. Of course it was all too good to be true. My face grows warm.

But before I continue to spiral, Timmy says, "I mean, it's not to say that I won't be free. I just won't be — here."

"Oh?"

"I...might be leaving today. For London."

"Oh." And I'm taking a deep breath. "Oh god, okay. I was — scared for a second. You scared me."

A nervous laugh leaves me, a million questions and reactions shooting through my mind, and I don't know what to ask first.

"London? Holy shit, that's amazing, for how long?"

"Marley, I'm going to London for five months."