When In Rome ► Timothée Chalamet

15 | Ride or Die

Y/N

_

The tension was undeniable.

My eyes were glued to the blackboard in front of me, but the only thing on my mind was the boy behind me.

As soon as I walked into the classroom this morning, I felt his gaze follow me to my usual seat, which was of course, in front of him. I wasn't sure what I was so paranoid about, but the scratching of his pencil against the desk put me on edge.

Maybe it was because of the look on his face when I went off with Timothee yesterday: a mixture of betrayal and disappointment. Soon the first class passed, but we didn't eat together at lunch. In fact, I didn't see him at all during the break, it was like he walked out of the classroom and disappeared into thin air. He came back for the second half of the day, but avoided eye contact with me.

"That will be all," Enzo said, setting down his dusty chalk stick on, "classe licenziata."

The class all murmured in relief, and started to grab their things. I decided that trying to connect with Percy was a hopeless case, and I hurried out of the classroom and towards the lockers.

Timothee was leaning against the metal shelves, a pencil tucked neatly behind his ear. The top buttons of his polo shirt had been undone, the silver chain he wore completely visible. I smiled when I saw him, which surprisingly earned me one in return.

"Ciao," I nodded, "you left without saying goodbye last night."

He chuckled, moving his unruly hair off to the side. An amused glint was painted over his olive eyes, and he moved back onto his feet.

"Did I?" he teased, "I don't seem to remember."

I saw his gaze flicker off to the side, and he shifted his stance defensively. Turning my head, I saw Percy lingering by the classroom door. He was divulged in a conversation with Professor Enzo, but he seemed to be paying more attention to Timothee and I.

"Let's go," the boy in front of me sighed, holding out his hand.

I hesitated for a second, my fingers twitching from previous memories, and he seemed to notice. He blinked, his expression softening.

"Don't worry," he said, "I promise I won't drag you off."

I nodded satisfactorily, and laced my fingers through his for the second time that week. We made our way to the courtyard, our arms swinging back and forth between us.

"Thank you," I brought up, "for the picture."

"Are you going to frame it as well?" he grinned.

"Shut up," I laughed, "I swear, Elliot made me do it!"

"Is that so?"

"Well, you're the one who got all philosophical in my face," I accused, "the artist and the watcher? Where did that even come from?"

"What's wrong with trying to impress you? If I remember clearly, you were about to faint."

"Blasphemy!"

"Admit you thought it was impressive," he pressed, squeezing my hand, "maybe, artistic, even."

"I'll admit you sounded intelligent, but that's all you'll get."

"I'll take what I can get, then."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I smiled, "where are we going today?"

The boy didn't say anything, but an obvious smirk grew onto his face. We stopped walking, a few feet away from the campus gates, and he shoved his hand in his pocket. The jingle of metal rang out onto the sidewalk, as he pulled out a string of keys and waved them in front of my face.

"Thought you'd want a little Roman Holiday today," he beamed, pointing in front of him.

A small, red vespa was parked by the curb, the sun glinting off it's sleek, metal finish. My lips parted slightly, half dumbfounded, and half surprised.

"This is yours?" I said, flustered, "there's no way."

"Perks of living here," he nodded, "I have to get around somehow."

"Why have I never seen you use this before?"

"I had no reason to yet," he said, "you ready?"

My cheeks burned with appreciation, turning a slight shade of pink. I hoped he didn't notice the sudden change in color, and I tried to cover it up with my hair. Timothee climbed onto the bike, his white shoes grazing the brake.

I tightened the straps of my backpack, and hopped on behind him, awkwardly trying to make myself comfortable on the leather seat.

"Put your arms around my waist," he directed, "so you don't fall off."

"Right, yeah..." I said sheepishly, a little hesitant.

"I don't mind, just try not to squeeze me to death."

"That's a promise I can't make," I laughed nervously, "I'm scared."

Switching on the ignition, the boy put his hands on the handles and twisted them into position. The scooter started up, a soft hum echoing out from the engine, and soon we were riding down the cobblestone streets.

The wind ran through my hair, flying wildly behind me as he drove. At the first turn, I tightened my grip around him defensively, praying I didn't make a wrong move and topple onto the ground.

"You okay?" Timothee yelled over the breeze.

"Yeah!" I said back, resting my chin on his shoulder.

Growing up, I had always watched Joe and Anne travel the city on a vespa in the movie, hoping I could do the same. It was almost unbelievable to be doing that very thing, the sights of Rome full of color and life.

My eyes started to tear up at the cold air rushing past us, but I blinked it away with excitement. We passed through alleyways and crowded markets, the fast pace of the bike alluding to a chariot race.

We drove circles around the Colosseum, it's historical grandeur almost impossible to miss. I let out cries of amazement as we passed, Timothee laughing at my zealous outbursts, which made him only speed up more.

"Another round?" he asked, turning his head to look my way.

"Yes! Just keep your eyes on the road!"

"As you wish," he smiled, his hand gripping the handle tighter.

We paraded by the Piazza dei Cavalieri di Malta, up towards the Circo Massimo, around the Campidoglio, and back again. The exhilaration of the journey was enough to fill my heart with unexpressed wonder, something I hadn't been able to openly express since I got here.

Timothee stopped the car in front of the dorms, switching off the key. He helped me off, before hopping back on the scooter.

"It's getting late," he noted, "Elliot must be worried."

"Yeah, I should head up," I nodded, "thanks, Timmy."

"I take it, you enjoyed the tour?"

"More than that," I said, my arms still buzzing with the feeling of the wind.

"I'll keep that in mind," he winked, switching the vespa back on, "get inside safe, alright?"

"Promise."

"Until tomorrow," he said, driving off, "ciao bella!"

I blushed, retreating inside the building. Ciao bella?

Last time I checked, that meant goodbye, beautiful. 

_

I really like this chapter... yoinkers!