When In Rome ► Timothée Chalamet

8 | Pasta Party

Y/N

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"Yep, you just pour that right in," Elliot said, pointing at the bowl of marinara sauce, "easy now."

I wasn't sure why I thought this was a good idea, but as soon as I returned from the store, I was thrown into the kitchen. My roommate had already cooked the pasta, but my big addition would be to mix the sauce in. I know, I know, master chef.

"Smells good," I nodded, shaking the bowl, "do we have to wait for it to cool down, or can we eat it now?"

"First we have to set the table."

"You set tables?" I gasped, "raised right."

The boy chuckled, and swung open the overhead cabinet. We had stocked up on a set of green plates from the furniture store, and it really matched our themed dorm. Spring essence, as Elliot liked to call it. I carried the spaghetti bowl to the other room, setting it on top of a placemat.

"So what took you so long?" the boy asked, tossing a fork onto the table, "the grocer's isn't that far from here."

"First off," I laughed, "it's a grocery store. Not grocer's, that's some weird lingo you're using."

"British?"

"I keep forgetting you're from kingston," I noted, "I've gotten used to your accent."

"Spending 3 years in New York really diminished most of my english vocabulary, but I could always bring it back, darling."

"Nope," I shook my head, "the darling thing does not sit right with me."

"Have it your way, signora."

"That's more like it," I smiled, "and second, I ran into Timmy on my way there."

Elliot stopped, and placed his hands on the table. He raised an eyebrow, but I dismissed it immediately.

"Absolutely not," I said, "I've known him for two days."

"And?" he persisted, "I think you two really have it going."

"Excuse me?"

"Have you seen Roman Holiday?"

My stomach fluttered in a rush of excitement. Roman Holiday was one of my favorite movies, and it was one of the reasons I took up Italian in general. I've watched the movie countless times, and it never gets old. How could one get old of Audrey Hepburn, anyways?

"Of course!" I gushed, "I can't believe you brought that up!"

"I take it, you've seen it more than once?"

"Probably over a hundred times" I explained, sitting down in the chair, "it's one of my favorites."

"Perfect!" Elliot smirked, "so it's justified if I compare you and Timothee to Anne and Joe?"

I wrinkled my nose, displeased with where he was going with this. Normally, I wouldn't stand to hear someone compare my favorite characters with someone else, but since it applied to me, I was a little more lenient.

"How so?" I questioned, picking up my fork and scooping spaghetti into my mouth.

"First, let's swap genders. Let's have Timothee be Anne, and you can be Joe."

"As much as I disagree with that, sure."

"Timothee is a rich boy who lives in Rome-"

"I actually had this conversation with him earlier," I laughed, "technically he doesn't live in Rome, but I let it slide."

"No interrupting my process!" Elliot scolded, "Anyways, you came to Rome for academic research. However, you two fall in love, and spend your days in Italy."

I choked on my spaghetti, and dropped my fork into my bowl, "if you're suggesting we have a summer fling, I have to deny that."

"Why?" the boy whined, "that's the ideal life story, why would you pass it up?"

"Look," I sighed, wiping my mouth with a napkin, "I'm here to go to school. Timothee is a nice guy, sure, but we don't share romantic interest."

"Then how do you explain all that tension?"

"It's complicated, and even though I'm not sure what that was, it wasn't love."

"Suit yourself," Elliot concluded.

"I have been suited," I nodded, "end of conversation."

"On another note," he questioned, "do you want to watch Roman Holiday after this?"