t. chalamet imagines

twenty one: it simply wouldn't work

based on the scene in little women
-

you and timothée had been best friends for who knows how long at this point- and only one of you had considered dating. it was simply something that never really crossed your mind because of your contentment of just being with him.

that's what love was however, you just didn't know it at the age you were.

"_____, you'll find someone who's accomplished and loving and enjoys doing the same amount of things that you do. and you'll fall in love and i'll be there to watch."

it had been several years ever since you had turned his offer down simply because you just couldn't mess up the friendship with what you didn't realize you had at the time.

love.

you were home for the christmas break that had started when you heard the front door open to your house. your mom and sibling(s) were downstairs decorating for a christmas party that you all were going to have soon.

you walked downstairs from your bedroom to see what was going on, seeing no one in the front entrance so you went back upstairs.

upon arriving, you sat down on the bed and clutched the letter you wrote to timothée in your hands. you were so nervous that you'd see him sometime soon and be forced to give it to him.

"_____?"

you looked up to see him standing there in your bedroom, causing you to shove the envelope with his name on it into your pocket very abruptly.

"timothée!" you exclaimed, getting up and going over to him to present him with a hug. he smiled, chuckling softly as he took a step back to look at you.

"wow, not a day older than when we last saw each other," he said, causing you to smile as you lightly punched his arm.

"not a day younger, that is for you," you replied, taking a seat back on the bed as he joined you.

"so, what are you doing back? are you here to see someone in particular?"

he chuckled, looking down at his shoes.

"uh, yeah. i came for this christmas party of yours. i couldn't let my wife go all alone, now could i?"

you paused your upcoming words, staring down towards the floor briefly before looking over at him.

"your- your what?"

"my, uh, my wife," he repeated. "i was going to tell everyone that we were married but honestly it just slipped out. i guess the excitement was there still."

you nodded, looking down towards your beat up shoes. timothée continued to observe your movements. you were feeling tears coming to your eyes and you couldn't stop your fingers from tapping your leg.

it was a habit you had when you were nervous or anxious about something.

"what is it?" he asked. he knew these habits quite well because of the many years of friendship.

"uh, it's nothing. it's nothing," you replied, still tapping and looking down towards your shoes. "i'm just," you paused, looking up at him. "i'm really happy for you."

he smiled at you, seeing your eyes briefly smile before looking away from him again.

"so," he began, leaning back slightly to upright his posture. "what's new in your life? are you married? engaged? dating?"

you continued to look towards the floor.

"no."

he cocked his head in confusion. "no? to which one?"