When In Rome ► Timothée Chalamet

23 | She's So Gone

While writing this, I was listening to 'Traveling On' by KONGOS. Just a suggestion :)

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TIMOTHÉE

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The city never seemed so sad.

To her I was nothing more than a memory, a ghost from her past. Somedays I would find myself outside of her classroom, my back pressed up against the wall, waiting for something to happen. I'd just sit there, too scared to walk past the window, staring at the floor silently.

I didn't draw, I didn't paint. How could you, when you've lost your muse?

But other than that, I'd stay out of her way. I'd take my classes in the afternoon, and go straight home, making conversation with nobody. I couldn't fight for her, because it wasn't my fight. She made the right decision putting herself over me, and even though it hurt, I had to let it go.

"Elliot," I nodded, "what are you doing here?"

It was barely even morning when I heard the knock on my door. The boy stood outside on the cobblestone, his hat resting on the tip of his head. Rubbing my tired eyes, I motioned for him to come inside.

"Sorry if I woke you up," he said, entering the house, but lingering by the doorway. I could tell he wasn't planning on staying for a long time.

"It's fine," I sighed, waving it off, "I couldn't sleep anyways."

"Right..." Elliot said, clearing his throat, "anyways, the school year's over."

"I'm aware."

"Will you be coming back next year?"

I paused, struggling to answer. It wasn't a definite decision, but I had to provide a response sooner or later.

"Every summer," I said, crossing my arms, "why?"

"Just asking."

"You came all the way over here," I surmised, glancing over at the clock on the wall, "at one in the morning, to ask if I'd be coming back?"

The boy lowered his head, taking off his hat. Realization hit me softly in the chest, as I realized what his being here implied. I let out a soft sigh, staring at the ground.

"Why did you hide?" he asked, his eyes glazed with confusion, "you just let her walk away from you."

"I did what I had too," I defended, "it's not my place to interfere with her choices."

"But you didn't even fight for her."

"I did. But she won. Who am I to argue with that?"

"I don't know, Timothee," the boy said, "but what if she was just waiting for you to chase after her?"

I shook my head, retreating to the living room chair. Plopping down on the cushion, I laid my hand in my hands, thinking it all through. It didn't matter if she wanted me to chase after her, because if she really wanted me, why would she run in the first place?

"You don't know what she wants, Elliot," I mumbled, "even I don't know what she wants."

There was a moment of silence, sending a chill through the room. I could hear my heart beating through my chest, the drum-like sound echoing through my head. I hated every second of it.

"I should head back before she knows I'm gone," Elliot said, opening the door behind him, "one more thing."

I looked up, his silhouette illuminated by the sunrise streaming in. Even though I couldn't see his features, I could sense the soft smile on his face. Tipping his hat, he prepared to shut the door.