Falling ♡ Timothée Chalamet

16 - exposed

He smells like alcohol and he tastes like it too.

My hands are running though his hair and his hands have found my waist and he's squeezing me and we're pulling eachother so close, too close.

But that's okay. This is all going to be worth it in the end because I will be so infatuated with Drew that I'll forget about my feelings for Timmy.

I'll forget about his kind eyes, about his tender voice, about his soft curls, about his plump lips. I'll forget about him entirely.

Drew is my medicine right now, he is my cure. He will get me through this.

I just know it.

I move my lips to Drew's neck and he lets out a moan. I know how to push his buttons now, I know what turns him on and what drives him crazy and it's honestly satisfying to watch him come undone.

I pull away and I'm about to place my lips on his mouth again but Drew pushes me back. 'Wait.' He says and he holds me above him, his hands are one my shoulders and his eyes are trained on mine.

He's drunk again, for the millionth time in a row this week, and he's looking at me like I'm some kind of goddess who has the ability to alter his entire world. I should be flattered by this, but instead I feel a twinge of sympathy because as I look at him all I can still think of is Timothée.

'What?' I ask Drew, because he still hasn't been able to tear his eyes away from mine.

He smiles at me. 'Nothing. You're just so fucking hot right now.' I roll my eyes. It's probably the drunk him talking. Sober Drew would never call me hot, but then again I really don't know sober Drew all that well. I've only seen the intoxicated side of him. I pull him towards me again and we continue making out on my tiny bed in my tiny bedroom.

It's all perfect, until it isn't.

As Drew flips me over so that I am underneath him, I watch as he starts taking off my shirt quickly. It isn't until I'm in my bra and underwear that I realize things are about to be taken to the next level with us.

Me and Drew have messed around a lot lately. We make out and we touch and we just hold eachother sometimes, but we don't talk. We never really talk. Things between me and him haven't escalated yet and I'm not sure I want them to.

He might be a distraction right now, but he sure as hell won't be the guy I let take my virginity from me.

I'm saving that for someone special.

'Stop.' I say, fear evident in my voice. And thankfully I don't have to repeat myself because Drew immediately pulls away from me.

He looks down at me, at my vulnerable naked body before finding my eyes again. I'm about to explain why I stopped things from escalating but then I watch Drew's eyebrows furrow. 'Fuck Ella, what happened to you?'

My heart thumps in my chest at a very rapid rate as I watch him look back down at my body and then back at me. I don't have to look down to know he is staring right at the cuts and bruises on my body. On my torso, my stomach, my legs and my arms.

I'm always in sweaters, hoodies, turtlenecks, long sleeved shirts. It's the winter time so I have to cover up and my father hasn't bruised or battered me up in a while that I almost completely forgot I had bruises covering every inch of me.