Desire ☆ Timothée Chalamet

| 54 | starvation

Showing up on set the next day, everyone noticed a huge difference in Daisy's mood. She gave off this glow and joy and she wore a smile on her face rather than wearing her usual frown. It was fascinating and one of her female co-stars was way too curious not to ask her about it.

'So, Tell me Daisy did you start going to yoga classes or did you get laid?' Daisy freezes in her seat and looks down at her script avoiding all eye contact. Her and the 37 year old lady whom is known to be her co star, Jane, were in Daisy's trailer practicing a scene that was coming up and Daisy could not look her in the eye after what she had just asked.

Daisy knew that sex was a regular thing and it wasn't some taboo that shouldn't be talked about or brought up. But something about last night made her not want to talk about it with Jane. It was just so beautiful and intimate, and it was a moment between her and Timothée that she wished to keep private, and telling Jane about it didn't seem like the right thing to do.

So she shrugged. 'Neither.' She says simply focusing on the script and re reading the lines that were already engraved in her mind. She memorized lines easily and Jane was aware of that but she let her pretend to go over them for the sake of the situation.

'Come on, you have this glow to you. And you've been smiling and even giggling all morning. Everyone knows somethings up so just admit it. You had sex didn't you?' As much as it aggravated Daisy that Jane and her other co stars were talking about her and trying to analyze her behavior, she couldn't really blame them.

She was this pissed off, sad, sorrowful girl when she came to San Fransisco. She was still grieving her brother's death and she had no time to put on a smile for anyone. And when she did, it was always fake. Even the character she was playing in the movie was miserable so it didn't take much effort for her to act depressed or sad, because she already was that way to begin with.

So Daisy cut Jane some slack for wanting to dig into her personal life and she just simply nodded giving Jane a small grin . 'Okay, fine. You're right I had sex last night.' And Jane squeals in reply.

It was as if Jane was the 18 year old and Daisy was the 37 year old. 'I knew it, it was that good huh?' Jane asks referring to the sex and shaking Daisy in the process making Daisy want to roll her eyes. She was not going to explain the details of her night with Timothée so she sighed instead, wishing Jane wasn't so nosey.

'Yes it was. Now can we just drop it. We have a scene to shoot let's practice.'

***

Today the elevator was no longer broken and Daisy can easily get up to the seventh floor without feeling like she is on the verge of death. She makes it to her door and she can hear the shuffling inside of her apartment due to Timothée's loud steps. Daisy does not need to get her key out, she simply just knocks on the door and waits for Timothée to let her in.

He smiles at her once the door opens and pulls her in for a hug, it was nice and warm and just what she needed after a long day of shooting. 'I made dinner.' He says and she can already smell the scent of the pasta and the bread that filled every corner of her tiny apartment.

It smelt nice, almost like home but Daisy realized she didn't really have an appetite. 'That's so sweet of you timmy but I'm not hungry.' She says placing a quick kiss on his cheek and then walking past him so she can take off her coat and get comfortable on the couch.

Timothée is left there dumbfounded, but he doesn't overreact, maybe she was full after eating on set he thinks to himself. 'Did you have dinner on set?' He asks her turning to face her again and watching as she shakes her head.

'Nope.' she says.

'Then why aren't you going to eat? I made dinner for the both of us.' From his tone Daisy can tell he is offended. He obviously put a lot of time into making them some food and he expected Daisy to eat it with him and tell him all about her day, but instead her stomach rejected the food and she was in no mood to eat it.

'I just don't feel like it. I haven't had dinner in weeks, I don't really feel like eating.' It was true, ever since her brother's death Daisy skipped meals. Sometimes she would skip breakfast and have lunch sometimes she would have breakfast but skip lunch. But she never had dinner, it was just something she stopped doing. It used to be her favorite meal of the day but it became a meal that she forgot even existed.

'So that's why you're so thin nowadays, it's because you starve yourself?' Timothée's accusation and his harsh voice make Daisy's eyes widen. She feels offended because after an amazing night they shared together he just had to ruin it all and get mad at her.

'I don't starve myself!' She yells back, anger in her tone. Although Timothée was partially correct she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of being right. Daisy didn't completely starve herself, but she didn't eat well either. Her stomach had grown used to feeling empty that she rarely ever craved anything. Just a simple granola bar or bowl of cereal can make her full for hours and hours without any complaints.

'Oh really? So tell me Daisy, if you aren't starving yourself than what on earth do you eat?' He looks at her, his eyes asking her a question that she's terrified to answer. She can't reveal to him that she has been so weak lately, that she rarely ever eats.

So she lies, something she has been quite good at. 'I eat okay...I'm not going to give you a rundown on everything I eat.' But of course he see's right through her facade.

'You look sick!' He screams making her flinch away once his voice rises. He see's Daisy step away from him so his eyes start so soften and he relaxes slightly. 'I know last night was amazing.' He says putting his head down and running his hands through his hair. 'but you can't starve yourself because of Harvey or because of your dad or because of me. You have to take care of yourself Daisy, please.'

'I'm not fucking starving myself.' she snaps back. 'I just don't like eating dinner. It hurts my stomach before I go to bed.' Now her voice is louder than his and her eyes are hostile. She walks over to the couch and plops down, feeling her heartbeat quicken as she slowly watches him approach her and sit on the couch beside her.

'Then tell me why for months and months when me and you would hang out after I was done shooting you were the first person to ask where we were going to eat. We'd have burgers at midnight and you never said your stomach hurt you.' He just had to bring up evidence and prove her lies, it angered her but she had finally calmed down a bit.

'Because people change Timothée.' She whispers, looking down at her feet and at the soft rug beneath her. Timothée sighs.

'Yeah, for the worse not for the better.' He spits before standing up and walking out the door of her apartment.

_____________________

Ohhhh shit,
Things are about to get really heated ;)