baked | timothée chalamet

thirty-seven, 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫

I checked behind me a few times to make sure he was following, which he was. It pissed me off he had such a clueless look on his face. I noticed there were stairs up to a third floor, so I kept going up noticing it was more empty as I went up.

I started trying to open each door, but most of them were locked-oh-I was pushed into the room that I could open and was slammed against the door by Timothée. I heard him lock the door as he was kissing me. I'm only going to kiss him a few more times before being mad at him.

I jumped up wrapping my legs around his torso kissing him harder. He was making me more excited as he grabbed my bare ass under my dress. I moaned into his kiss making him take me to the bed. He roughly put me down and pulled my entire dress off of me quickly. I pushed him back down to me with my legs wanting him to be closer to me than before.

He ditched you to talk to other girls. I pulled his hair making his groan and grip my neck tighter. I bit his lip making him pull off from kissing and unbutton his pants. He flipped me over leaning over to kiss my neck.

I was really drunk so this time having sex was so different. It felt casual and was quick, I knew I was going to be a mess after this, and deep down even in my own drunken thoughts I knew I was going to have to confront him.

I just felt the room spin as I laid drunkingly on the bed. I shouldn't have drank, this is exactly why I don't drink. Timothée was looking at himself in the wall mirror trying to make himself look normal.

"Magnolia get up." he was stern, I could tell he was pissed off even if he just fucked the shit out of me.

"F-fuck off." I hiccuped and did my best to get through my words. I sat up feeling my head spin even more and stood up from the bed. I went over to where he was and shoved him out of the way. I defiantly had sex hair, my eyes were bloodshot, and my makeup was smudged all over my face. I wiped under my eyes, flatten my hair down and turned to look at Timothée. He had his hands shoved in his pockets and just focused on the floor. I hiccuped again making him look at me with dread.

"You hungry?" he asked softly. I just pursed my lips and nodded my head yes. He grabbed my hand and led me out of the room.

He held me hand all the way up until we reached the end of the stairs then he let go. I followed him out of the party and he led us out to the cold street were we walked for a few feet getting farther from the still booming party. He only walked a foot in front of me, but even far away from the party and where no one was around, he didn't grab my hand again. Why? I felt a lump come up in my throat, I couldn't help but cry. I know I'm supposed to be the one mad at him, but why can't he hold my hand.

"Are you crying?" he stopped walking to turn and look at me. I frowned at him crossing my arms.

"Yes." I stopped in my tracks again and just let it out. I started sobbing, not too sure why.

"Magnolia," his voice cracked as he said my name and came closer wrapping his arms around my head bringing it to his chest. "I think we're far away enough to call a car, okay?" he spoke very soft, but when he tried to pull away I cried harder. He got back in his normal position but pulled out his phone. "Magnolia, please talk." he begged.

"I'm mad at you." I cried.

"I'm mad at you too." he sighed. I pushed back from him frowning at me. He had no reason to be mad at me.

"Wipe your face, we can talk about it after we're dropped off." his eyebrows were furrowed the entire time like he was angry. However, he still wiped my face with his sleeve and had his arm around me until the car came.

We rode in silence, I was dozing in and out of the car ride on Timmy's shoulder. We pulled out to a dinner that was open 24/7, around 3am, it wasn't too busy. Timmy guided my walking which wasn't too straight and sat us in a booth in the corner setting me in the side that faced the main entrance.

Our silence continued as we ordered our coffee and food. I could feel the headache creeping up and leaned my head in the palm of my hand.

"Maggy," Tim said getting my attention with that stupid nickname, "why did you run off and not tell me? Who were those people you were talking to?" I guess we're starting this conversation now.

"I was having a good time until I was dancing by myself and you were," I paused to be condescending, "I don't know flirting with other girls in front of me." I wavd my hand around only to bang it lightly on the table.

"Don't be so dramatic." he rolled his eyes.

"What?" I scoffed, "I watched girls flirt with you!"

"That's just what happens!" he claimed as if that made it any better.

"I'm supposed to be okay with it?" I was in shock at how he couldn't have admit he was wrong in the slightest.

"No," he put his head in his hands leaning down toward the table, I felt exhaustion start to hit. "How can I stop it without making it so obvious I'm dating you?" his head was still down toward the table, the only thing I saw was the top of his head.

"Just walk away?" his problem was harder to think about than I so shallowly thought. He sucked a loud breathe in. My stomach dropped thinking about how angry I possibly made him... I didn't mean to.

"Maybe this is harder than we thought." his voice was still —it gave me an indication of what the fuck he is talking about.

But instead, in my drunk-high-crossed mind, a lump formed in my throat. Am I being broken up with?

A plate of food was set in front of me, so we dropped the conversation eating in this dreadful silence. If we were going to break up I didn't want to eat in the last minutes of us not being apart. But I was too scared that if I spoke, it would just be pathetic pleas for him to not leave me. So I let myself sit there in stubborn silence.

I focused more on not crying, passing out, and controlling my headache. I grabbed my water drinking the last bit of it—assuming the source of my headache was dehydration. I set it down, all the while staring at my plate. I wanted more, but didn't want to ask.

At the corner of my eye, I saw a glass of water slide to me pushed by Timothée. My heart ached so bad, that should've been the part I cried it all out, but I held it in well. I didn't want to use the little water I had in me for tears.

I drank the rest of his water as we finished in silence. We walked back out to the cool air of Los Angeles. I felt like shit-but I was more lucid and anxious for what was coming next.