Falling ♡ Timothée Chalamet

24 - first

Pulling up to Timothée's house and seeing it again was harder than I thought it would be.

His house is laced with so many memories that I don't think I'm ready to face yet. As we walk up to his house I see my mother sitting on the porch with Mrs. Chalamet, drinking a warm cup of hot cocoa and laughing for the first time in weeks.

I look around and I can picture myself chasing Timothée and Aaron out the house and down the street. I can even hear our mothers calling out for us to be careful. 'Don't fall.' My mother would say. 'Don't get hurt my loves.' But she couldn't protect us from bruises, from scars, from pain.

Because how could she protect us when she could barely protect herself?

'Fuck I left my key in the car. I always do this shit.' Timothée walks back towards his car leaving me at the front door and as I watch him walk away I picture recent memories.

Like my last time here, when I so desperately walked all the way to his block with a bruise on my neck and tears staining my cheeks. I remember hugging him, I remember him hugging me back and comforting me as I laid out all of my pain on a silver platter in front of him.

He just took it, like it wasn't heavy and hard to hear. And I'll never forget that. I'll never be able to make it up to him for hearing me out that one morning. I'll always be grateful.

'There.' Timothée says finally shoving in the key and unlocking the door. 'In you go.' He shoves me in and I'm honestly thankful for that because if he hadn't pushed me I wouldn't have been able to take the first step.

As we dive deeper into his house I start to feel more and more comfortable. Good memories outweigh the bad ones in my mind and I can't help but remember so many wonderful things. 'We used to build forts there.' I say pointing at the dining table.

Timothée looks over and he smiles widely. 'Yeah. And whenever we'd play hide and seek that was always your go to spot.' He says pointing at a small curve of the wall, that a young me used to fit in and hide inside.

I'd never be able to fit in there now. 'It feels like it was yesterday.' I admit out loud. Timothée nods and as I watch his smile fade I feel guilty for ruining his good mood.

Just moments ago he was smiling so big and as I brought up beautiful but painful memories his eyes grew sad by the second. 'It's okay to have one of those days.' He says making me turn my attention from the wall to his face. 'Where you just think of her, and miss her unconditionally.' My heart starts thumping in my chest.

It's easy to think of my mother in the confines of my own mind, in my own private thoughts. Like she's a part of my minds creation. But to hear him talking about her out loud always gets to me. It makes it real, too real. 'She was like a mother to me too you know? And her loss hurt me as well. I'm just so sorry I couldn't be there for you when she-'

'You were there.' I say, and it's true. He was. He showed up to the funeral, and instead of offering his condolences like everybody else he simply stood with me in silence. I remember crying and I remember how he handed me a tissue and pulled me into his arms.

After that it's all a blur of memories. He would approach me at school, try to talk to me whenever we would bump into each other in public. But I was always out of it. I was pushing him away without meaning to, I just couldn't handle the pain. Nothing made sense to me back then.

Why did she die? I still can't wrap my head around it.

'You were there Timmy but I pushed you away. And I'm sorry.' Timmy shakes his head.

'Don't be. Never be sorry for opening up. If you're having a shit day always tell me okay Ellie?' He says and his use of my nickname, the nickname my mother called me, that him and Aaron called me as well when we were kids make my eyes shift back up to him.