"do you believe in love at first sight?"
"not until i saw you."
In which two young incredible actors, fall in love at first sight, despite their differences.
or
In which, I live out my daydream of being in love with Timothée Chalamet, through Alia...
Author's Note: Listen to the song while reading the chapter! ✨ ----------
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Timothée turned towards the source of the knocking, only to find Amara standing by the doorway of his room, looking extremely graceful in her white churidar.
Unlike the day before, she opted out for lesser jewellery. Her forehead was lacking the usual maang tikka. Now it's in place was a small yet stylish bindi. Her ears were decorated with the extravagant earrings. She wore lesser makeup too, but she still managed to look like a literal angel decked in white, ready to guide him to heaven.
Timothée stared at her and he didn't look away for a second, not because he couldn't but because he didn't want to.
"Haldi day! Are you ready?" she inquired, noticing his unbuttoned kurta.
"Y-yeah, I just c-can't seem to g-get the last few buttons." She giggled as he struggled to form words.
"Cat got your tongue?" She walked into the room and turned him away from the mirror, towards her.
"You look really pretty, that's all," he complimented. She smiled while trying her best to hide her blush. Timothée hadn't stopped with the praises and he was not about to either. He figured he was going to be truthful with her at all times, no matter how blunt he might sound.
After realising how much she actually meant to him, Timothée was determined to get her to trust him and herself, and if being honest is what it would take, then he was ready to look and sound like a lovestruck fool.
Her manicured nails reached out to help him with his buttons. While she concentrated hard to loop the buttons through its hook, Timothée drank in her presence like she was the last drop of water on earth.
She continued folding the long sleeves of the kurta halfway pass his forearm, the two just stood there in peaceful silence. It was like a scene from a movie, where the grateful husband looks down in appreciation and love for his wife, who was helping him get ready.
"Can you tell me all about the ceremony again? I slept halfway through your explanation last night," he said sheepishly.
"Haldi is turmeric in hindi. The Haldi ceremony is one of the few rituals of Indian weddings. We apply haldi paste onto the bride and groom, then afterwards they have to bathe in turmeric water." She lets go of his hand and adjusts his shirt slightly, dusting off his shoulders.
"We believe that by applying haldi, it helps to ward off evil spirits that may affect the bride and groom. The yellow colour of turmeric is considered very auspicious too. To us, it symbolises ushering in a life of prosperity for the couple."
With one last glance over, she deems him ready. She held her hand out for him to grab. Excitedly, he does exactly that.
"It's gonna be so fun," she exclaimed. "Everyone else is downstairs, we're starting soon, let's go!" They laugh and rush towards the crowd outside, where Laila and Dev were already seated in the middle, under the unsheltered gazebo.
