The Art and His Exhibition (Timothée Chalamet Fanfic)

2016.2

The next thing I did next morning was to get a copy of 'Call Me By Your Name'.

I read the back inscription a little and found out it was a love story between two men aged 17 and 24.

I started reading it between my classes and reading it like that let me finish the book before I went home.

Timmy was in front of the TV, watching some sort of game show, I suppose.

I put my coat into the dresser and went next to him.

"Hey love." he said.

"Hi honey. Guess what I got today?"

I showed him the copy of the book.

"Did you finish it?"

"Yes, I did."

"How was it?"

"Incredible. Timmy I'm so proud of you."

I kissed him on his forehead before sitting next to him at the sofa.

"So, are you playing Elio?"

"Yup." he said, while searching through the channels.

"Do you know who is playing Oliver?"

"While I was there the casting directors were talking about either Armie Hammer or Joseph Gordon Lewitt but I really don't know."

After a moment of silence I finally had the courage to ask the question that was bugging my mind.

"So is the film gonna take place in Italy?"

"Northern Italy to be exact, yes."

"Okay." I said.

"Okay." he replied.

So he is gonna leave, again.

And not just Canada this time, another fucking continent.

"When are you leaving?"

"Around June. We are leaving early because the director said it was best to fit in with the locals and stuff."

"How long are you gonna stay?"

"I believe for the whole summer, maybe even September."

"Okay." I said.

"Okay." he replied.

I could taste the bitterness of the silence that was surrounding us.

I believe he felt that too.

"I should get ready for the bed." I said, rushing from the possible argument we were about to have.

"No, Alex wait." he said, grabbing my wrist.

Both of us were on the sofa again.

Timothée closed the TV.

"Look, I'm really sorry that-"

"No, please don't be." I cut him off.

"This is your job Timothée. I have no right to engage with it like that."

I get out of the sofa.

Seconds later he grabbed me back.

"Why are you running away from this? You know couples argue right?"

"I know but it's not like that-" I tried to explain my situation but he cut me short.

"There is nothing wrong with sharing your feelings with someone. Especially if it's anger and sorrow."

He kept on saying such supportive things but I couldn't stop thinking about my mom and the fucked up situation I am in.

He kept on telling me it was okay and I should open up about it and suddenly j bursted.

"Timmy my mom is an illegal immigrant."

Suddenly all there left was silence.

"She insists that I should start working at a steady job and start a family really quick."

"You are 20 years old."

"That didn't changed the fact that Trump is running for the president."

Again a bitter silence.

"Look my mom just got worried because of his whole campaign about the immigrant situation but I'm sure she's fine. She's a strong woman she'll get through it."

After a moment of silence Timmy finally spoken some words.

"So how exactly your mom was married to a cop?"

"My dad supposedly quit his job to hide the matter."

Timothée pulled me close. He kissed me on the cheek and hugged me, very tightly.

I've never felt anything like that ever. This was something different but I was glad to do it.

"I am graduating and if I don't find a job in my degree matter in 3 months I'll be send home. My mother will be send home. To Bahrain. I just wanted you to be here."

"I'm so so sorry."

We slept cuddling each other that night, on that sofa.

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HEY AUTHOR'S NOTE A LIL QUICK:
CAN YOU PLEASE GIVE FEEDBACK WITH COMMENTS I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IT.

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