Timothee X Y/n - Tumblr Posts
timothée playing the piano and smiling like an idiot is so timmy
Hello! Will you write a part 2 for “it was you all along”? I really want to see reader have the happiness she deserves. Maybe timmy can make her open an instagram account for herself and and her fans would be so happy and ofc her ex would be mad. If you don’t want that that’s totally fine!! Have a good day ❤️
it was you all along ༊*·˚
part ii
m.list ◦ askbox
yninstagram
liked by tchalamet, florencepugh and 1,233,549 others
yninstagram: yooooo i HAD to be the first post 😗 *everyone thank me for making y/n an instagram account
tchalamet added post to his story
ynfan38: OH MY GOD!! IS THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENING???
ynfan93: can't believe we needed timo to make our girl join instagram
timotheefan66: i love him so much <3
zendaya: does y/n know u r posting pics of yourself?
yninstagram: i'm not that sneaky... or am i 🙃
zendaya: yeah.. she has no idea
timotheefan3: can't believe he liked his own photo 🤣
ynfan58: does this mean we're going to get more y/n content?
timothee71: IDK WHAT TO COMMENT FIRST!!
tayrussell: where is my baby y/n?
yninstagram: getting ready for the afterparty. i'm in charge now 😈
ynfan29: i wanted them to win :(
timothee45: i was disappointed too
ynfan75: i'm so happy that y/n feels more comfortable sharing more things with us
timotheefan20: it's so clear that they make each other so happy
ynfan74: wait r they together?
timotheefan54: idk but they definitely look comfortable with each other
timotheefan35: wasn't y/n dating paolo scotti?
ynfan21: u r a few episodes behind bro. haven't u seen the video?
timothee13: video?
ynfan21: paolo cheated on y/n
timothee13: WHO ON EARTH WOULD CHEAT ON Y/N?
ynfan21: I KNOW RIGHT?
florencepugh: favorite losers
yninstagram: too early for jokes :(
ynfan9: guys have u seen the interview? they are so sweet
timotheefan34: what interview?
ynfan9: y/n said that she'd be happier for tim to win than herself
timotheefan34: she's so cute. she deserves the world 🥹💕
timotheefan52: i really hope they're together
ynfan77: YES i love them!!
view all 543,583 comments
« I swear to God, I'm never going to forgive you for making my phone ring every two seconds. » Just as you finished your sentence the Instagram notification sound was heard. Timothée grinned looking at how you took a deep breath and started biting your lips. « I'm going to kill you in your sleep, I swear, » you mumbled.
« You just need to turn off the notifications, dummy, » he chuckled taking your phone in his hands, going to the settings, and turning off your Instagram notifications. « Even my grandma knows that, » Tim murmured giving it back to you.
« I know how to turn off my notifications, » you said looking down at your phone. Timothée smiled and leaned to catch your gaze.
« Yeah, I'm sure about that.» You rolled your eyes and scoffed. Tim imitated your reaction in a more dramatic tone.
« Silly, » you shook his shoulder. He smiled while looking outside of the car. « We have to be prepared for our little performance. »
« We are naturals, we don't need to be prepared. » Your eyes stayed on him for a few seconds, a smile slowly growing on your face.
Honestly, you didn't need to put in much effort. You were both great actors and everything was coming out so naturally. Luca used to say that you two were definitely together in another life or a parallel universe because there was no way you could act so convincingly. You could still hear Timothée leaving that awkward laugh that made you always smile.
Maybe it was just the way you looked at each other. When his green orbs met yours, they would always stay there for a few seconds like electrons and protons met but were forced to separate for reasons that no human brain could apprehend. You were very magnetic for each other and that was always there even if you were acting or you were just out for coffee.
« We are here, » the driver said.
« Thanks, » you both told him. Timothée motioned his hand for you to stay at your place.
« I'm opening your door, » he said. « Darling, » he raised his brows and smiled at you cheekily. You grinned at yourself fixing your clothes. He opened the door and slightly bowed to you before giving you his hand to help.
« Too much, » you mouthed to him and raised your brows.
« Sorry I have manners, » Tim leaned closer to whisper to your ear.
« Sorry I have manners, » you mimicked him.
« Oh, shut up, » he covered your face with his hand before wrapping his hand around your waist and pressing his lips on your cheek. You laughed touching the hand that was around you.
You posed in front of the photographers, both together and separately. After that, you were still together. You were magnets after all.
« Oh man, » Timothée said his arm around your neck, his fingers falling on your collarbone. « I forgot how awful the food is here. »
« Burgers on me later, » you said. Timothée curled up his nose into a smile. « What, you saw Christian Bale and you're going to fangirl again? », you asked.
« No! », Timothée shook his head. « Though, » he moved his hand while speaking, « there is absolutely nothing wrong about fangirling over Christian Bale. »
« Look, » you replied in a more serious tone, « it's fine fangirling over Christian Bale, but if you do it more than three times, » you side-eyed him, « people will start suspecting that you're in love with him. »
« Very supportive, » he made you chuckle.
« That's me, » you forced a smile as he lightly ruffled your hair.
« Hey, you know what we should do? We should have a quick look around at the place. »
« Oh! », you smiled biting your lips. « Yes, we should definitely do that. »
You and Timothée started walking around the hotel, laughing at random comments you were both making. Timothée didn't set you free, his arm still wrapped around you. But no complaint was made by your side since you pretty much enjoyed it.
He smelled so nice. It reminded you of something so familiar, like your home. It was vanilla mixed with oranges and cloves and something warm. You couldn't stop smiling. Timothée was making you feel so serene.
« Oh my God, » he said as he tangled his fingers around your palm, pulled you by the hand, and led you to the end of the corridor where was a pianoforte. He quickly took a seat in front of it and glanced at the other way concerned.
« Play something... if you can, of course, » you raised your brow. He clenched his jaw to prevent his grin and tried to sound smooth.
« You think I can't? », he asked. You shrugged taking a seat next to him.
« I don't know, maybe your piano skills have faded over the years... »
« Wanna bet? », he bit his lips. You smiled looking into his eyes. You were so close, you've never been this close outside of work. That was probably the only time Timothée didn't stay longer in your eyes, his stare falling immediately to your lips. His mouth half-opened but then shook his head and sat better. You just smiled and looked down at your lap.
You couldn't have imagined that little moment between you, that spark jumping from his eyes to your lips.
« Bach is an amateur in front of me, » Tim said as his fingers pressed against the piano keys, playing a sweet melody. Your head slowly fell on his shoulder hearing the magic coming out of the instrument. Every now and then he turned his head in your direction, looking at the way, you couldn't stop staring at him or glaring at you when you pressed a random note and messed with his song.
« Timothée, » you said once he was over.
« What? », he smiled.
« I feel like I'm monopolizing you, » you chuckled. He unconsciously smiled back at you.
« I wish you did, » he bit his lips a little.
« Oh, come on, » you shook his shoulder. « Let's go get drinks. »
« Fine, » he said.
You returned back to the main room where almost everyone was gathered. You stopped to talk to some people. Timothée after a while tapped your back.
« I'm getting us drinks, » he told you. You nodded happily.
But your laugh slowly faded away as you noticed Paolo staring at you while talking to Steven Spielberg and his wife, who were clearly looking around trying to find a way out. Your lips were pressed together as he looked at you with a smirk and then his eyes moved to Timothée who was walking away, the smirk being replaced by a dead-face look.
You hated that after everything, he still had an effect on you. And you hated, even more, yourself for letting him under your skin. You were so fucking blinded and stupid, that didn't end things earlier. Paolo kindly excused himself and moved towards you, pulling lightly your forearm and separating you from the group of people. You didn't want to make a scene in front of them, so you let him lead you to a corner.
« Oh God, what sins am I paying for? », you looked up. Paolo froze for a moment.
« Hi, Y/N, » he said.
« Hi, » you said back and breathed heavily.
« You should've won, you deserved it, » he nodded eagerly. He had lost as well, but you didn't respond. « But you know that only being nominated it's an achievement by itself. » You smiled.
« Yes, that's funny because I was worried my career was going to be destroyed after a romance movie. »
« Y/N... », he looked at you pleadingly.
« What do you want Paolo? I thought I made it pretty clear that I want nothing to do with you. »
« You can't just do this to me, Y/N, » Paolo shook his head. « You can't destroy all these times we spent together in just one moment. »
« It was me who destroyed our relationship in just one moment? », you asked calmly. « You are a fucking asshole. »
« Okay, I-I'll take it on me. It was all my fault, but it was just one moment of weakness. I was completely pissed, I didn't know where the fuck I was or what I was doing, believe me. » You clenched your jaw in your attempt to keep a straight face. « Please, forgive me, and let's forget this ever happened. »
« I believe you and I forgive you for kissing that random girl, » you said. Paolo smiled thankfully and tried to close the distance, but your hand separated you. « But I will never forgive you for the way you treated me. From the moment this relationship started, you were nothing but a pretentious manipulative asshole that always wanted to do things his way or nothing. I spent so much time with you, I lost myself, my dignity, my career was held back... I- I don't know anymore, Paolo. »
« You are being unfair, » he shook his head. « We love each other. It was love at first sight, remember? You always said you loved me from the moment you looked at me. »
« Well, I should've looked at you twice, » you hit his shoulder walking away. « You are a fucking hypocrite, » he said then. You stopped walking and he was there, right behind you when you turned around. « It's all because of that guy that fucked a fucking peach. Posting photos and acting all happy together. I bet you had already fucked him long before I kissed that girl. »
« Don't even dare say that ever again, you asshole, » you pressed your lips shut, anger drawn in your face. « You made me so fucking miserable that even smiling felt uncomfortable, you douchebag. And keep Timothée out of your fucking mouth. He makes me happy. I am happy with him! »
« Y/N? », Timothée asked walking beside you. You gulped looking at him with two drinks in his hands.
« Well, » Paolo glanced at Tim up and down, then at you while clenching his jaw. « I guess this is it. »
«You guess? », you asked with a sarcastic smile. « You can be sure about it. »
Paolo pressed his lips and left you and Timothée alone. Tim walked closer to you giving you your drink. He then wrapped his arm around your shoulder.
« I-I'm going to get some air, » you moved away from him. You got out of the hotel, your lungs filling with oxygen again as the wind pulled your hair. You walked down the stairs, your head pounding as if someone was hitting you with a hammer, and sat down. You pulled your legs closer to your core and buried your head between your legs.
Timothée was standing still for a few seconds, his eyes in the direction where you disappeared. He wasn't sure if he should follow or not, but he knew one thing. He wanted to be with you and you had to know this.
So, he took the direction with uncertainty, going out of the hotel to find you. He saw you sitting there all alone and without speaking, sat beside you.
You tilted your head to the side until it touched his chest, tears falling down your eyes as you shook your forehead against his warmth. Timothée left his glass to the stairs next to yours and pulled you closer holding your back and caressing your hair lovingly.
« Y/N, » he held your head. Your gaze couldn't meet his but he still shoved the tears away from your cheeks and leaned his head to your side so he could catch your eyes. « It hurts seeing you cry for him. »
« I'm not crying for him, Timothée, » you shook your head pressing your lips so you didn't spread any more tears. « I wasted so much time being unhappy. »
« Don't think about that. Everything's over. » You smiled softly and nodded.
« Yes, » you said. Timothée smiled back at you.
« Can I make you a question? », he asked.
« Yes, » you laughed this time. Tim breathed out heavily and looked away.
« While I was waiting for our drinks, I watched your interview. »
« My interview? », you shook your head smiling as much as the situation let you again.
« You- », he gulped. « You said you'd be happier for me to win than you'd be for yourself. »
« I did say that, » you chuckled rubbing your eyes.
« Did you mean it or you said for I don't know. »
« Of course, I meant it Timothée, » you touched his hand that was balancing on his knee. He turned his head to you. « You always make me so happy and that, for some reason, makes me twice as happy for you. » His lips parted at your words that made and didn't make sense.
« Okay, » he pressed his eyes shut to take courage and then opened them again. "If the answer is no, let's just say I'm too drunk, okay?"
« Okay, » you said unsurely.
« Can I kiss you? » You froze for a few seconds and stayed there looking at him. « Oh fuck, » he pulled his hair back, his whole face turning red. « Y/N, I- » Without finishing his sentence you pressed his lips with yours.
Your eyes were sealed tight as you kissed slowly, lips brushing against each other, biting and licking the skin. Once you pulled back you both stared at the space between the two of you breathing.
Timothée chuckled causing you to smile too as he leaned to kiss you again, feeling like he didn't have enough of you already. He held your neck as you tangled your fingers between his curls.
You smiled against his lips as you backed away, with him trying to chase your lips. He pressed one last kiss to the side of your mouth, leaving a 'mwah' sound, and then pulled back too.
« What about that burger? », you asked.
his last letter ༊*·˚
masterlist ◦ askbox
synopsis: regulus writes you a letter before he goes to the cave
My Dear Y/N,
If you are reading this, it’s too late for me.
I am writing you from my room, at 12, Grimmauld Place. My doom is hanging on my neck like a rope. It’s heavy and unbearable. I can already feel it dragging me down.
That night, that I sneaked out just to meet you, I gave you a promise, that I was going to change, that I was going to be good. You said you loved me either way and nothing mattered to you.
It mattered to me though, because I wanted to be good. I wanted to do the right thing. The time has come to keep my promise and be good. And if the right thing is going to cost my life, then so be it.
Y/N, my dear Y/N, I need you to know that I’ve changed. I need you to know that I did the right thing, that in my last moments on this earth, I was good.
I am writing to you determined to do what I have to. Y/N, my heart, please forgive me.
I wish I never had to write this letter to you, but I know that my road has no return. It’s not just me being pessimistic, no. I can feel that this is not going to end well for me, for us. The earth has prepared a deep and narrow place for me and I can do nothing but get in.
Please forgive me for not meeting you tonight. Forgive my sloppy handwriting. Forgive fate. Forgive Kreacher, the bearer of the bad news, and please don't be mad at him. Forgive me.
If I regret one thing in this life Y/N, is not giving you more kisses, not hugging you tighter, not saying « I love you » every minute of every day.
Light of my eyes, a million hearts wouldn’t be able to carry my love for you. I love you unfathomably, no words can describe it. If only you could jump into my body for only a few seconds, you’d see for yourself. But I would never let you. I love you too much for this. You are everything to me.
You were the first person that made me feel truly loved. I know, my brother loves me too, or at least he tries to. I don’t blame him for taking his distance. After all the things I’ve done, I feel disgusted in my own skin. But you… how could you not be disgusted? How could you not leave me? How could you be there for me? How could you love me? People like me don’t deserve to be loved. I wouldn’t love me... I don’t love me; myself, what I am.
The only times I’ve ever loved myself are the ones spent with you.
You made me feel like I wasn’t as bad as I thought. I had a good side, I wasn’t always as menacing and misanthropic as everyone believed me to be. With you I felt like a person, normal, I wasn’t a burden. You truly did love me and your love made me beautiful. Honestly, I’m still not sure why you loved me like that. But I know you did. I could feel it every day, even in our worst moments.
I need you to know, you are the one and only for me, and you will always be. No matter what happens to me tonight, my soul will always be with you. I will always be yours. You will be my last thought, and my last breath will be your name.
I love you.
I’m afraid that you’ll forget me. Me, and everything we did together, everything we were.
Please, think of me sometimes. But not the bad things; the fightings, the tears, the sadness, the fear… think about the good things.
Do you remember the night after that stupid Ravenclaw party? I was pissed. I could barely walk and, oh Merlin, I was so, so dizzy. You couldn’t stop laughing watching my anarchist side come to the surface, as I was going up and down in front of Dumbledore’s office. I thought it’d be hilarious if we managed to get inside and burn the place to the ground. Well, we didn’t do that, obviously. From walking so fast, I ended up sick, vomiting in front of the gargoyle. I could still listen to your voice, as I was holding my knees, letting my guts out, and your laugh — I love it so much when you laugh. You then walked beside me, pulled my hair back, looked me in the eyes, and kissed me. I was staring at you like an idiot because I was too drunk. You smiled and then hugged me with your warm hands, your smell being the only thing I could sense.
That was the moment I first realized you love me. Who else would kiss the lips of a person that was vomiting only seconds ago?
I’ve never told you, but until now I’ve been thinking of that moment. Why would you be so kind to me? To me, of all the people on this Earth. And how can you love me?
Remember this time I was crying so hard without a reason, and I was just so angry that I was kicking the bathroom door and I was completely out of control? That day was terrible. I was hitting the wall so hard that my fist started to bleed. You had never seen me like that and I knew you were scared of me, but you hugged me tightly and didn’t let me go until I calmed down.
I asked you that day, why didn’t you leave me alone? Why did you have to be there? You said that you loved me so much nothing could drive you away. When you left I cried and didn’t go to class.
I was so confused. But I knew one thing, I wasn’t one hundred percent evil like everyone wanted me to believe.
We had so many dreams and plans that will never come true. I should’ve left this whorehouse when I had the chance. I should’ve left with Sirius. If it wasn’t for my ego... And then, when we were done with school, it was foolish of me to stay at my father’s funeral. We could have been in the countryside now, married, away from everyone. I really wanted to marry you, to spend the rest of my life with you.
I’ll stop thinking about that.
You have no idea how much it hurts knowing that you are reading this letter. It feels like a knife twisting deep into my soul.
Please, Y/N, you have to understand why I did this. I had to. I owed it to everyone. I owed it to myself.
I know it’s very selfish. I left you just so I can live up to the expectations I built for myself.
I am never going to see the day that awakens with you ever again, but I hope the light of the world is bright and gentle to you. I hope the people are good. I hope you smile and laugh every day. I hope you think of me sometimes, just once in a while.
My love, my heart, please don’t do anything crazy. Stay alive, do it for me. Live. I need you to keep going. If you love me, keep going. And please, get out of this place. Go to your friends, to my brother and Remus. I don’t want you to be here. And don’t even think about passing by my house.
I don’t know what else to say. I wish I could write you everything but time is running.
Please, know that I am not scared. I am not scared at all. I want to do this. It’s my decision, probably the only one I’ve ever made.
Don’t forget to burn the letter.
It’s so cold here and I can't stop remembering. My heart has no mercy on me.
I love you forever.
R.A.B.
a night on the balcony ༊*·˚
m.list ◦ askbox
synopsis: in which you and timothée go to a party during your vocation in venice
You were dancing crazily like you belonged to the music, like the music was a drug that brought you higher and higher until your heads were buzzing with pure joy. You were uncoiling ropes, with eyes on fire, unruly hair, both out of breath, covered in each other’s sweat.
Timothée gave you an impish look and then took your hand, his fingers cheekily wrapping around your palm, as he guided you through a sea of people. You looked down at his hand and then at the mischievous smile marked on his face, that not even your persistent stare was able to erase it. Your eyes fell again, slowly smiling, holding his arm to be closer to him with your free hand.
« Wait, » he pulled your hand to stop you from walking any further. You balanced your back on the wall, Timothée looking at you straight in the eyes with twitching lips that stayed half-opened. He leaned his head down an arm on the wall next to you, his curls tickling your nose. « I'm getting us drinks, » he pressed his nose against yours, your heavy breaths becoming one for a moment.
« Okay, » you gulped, eyes scanning the room around you as Timothée was lost in the crowd.
Timmy and you were on vacation in Venice, away from everyone and everything. You were both having such a great time, feeling invincible with all the freedom you had.
In the past, Timothée couldn’t really have a fun time with his girlfriends without getting captured by the paparazzi in their very personal moments. He didn’t want the same thing to happen to you, so you decided to keep things out of the public eye for as long as you could.
Finally, you found the time to be together out of the spotlight to have some moments only for yourselves in a place far away from home, and do things you wouldn't normally do in New York out of fear of getting caught.
You were going sightseeing, spending countless hours in museums just staring at paintings and statues that were staring back at your souls. You were having late night raids to the cinema that was close to the apartment you rented. One night, DUNE was screening and you begged Timothée to rewatch it on the big screen. Timothée couldn’t stop smiling the whole time, feeling extremely uncomfortable at the view of himself, his face concealed by his cap and his body deeply buried in the seat. You were walking on the cobblestone and on extremely quiet alleys that were either washed with sun or under the light of faint square streetlights, as you were eating gelato, and exchanging your cones. You were meeting with friends at their houses, having dinners, going to clubs together, getting drunk.
That was one of those nights. Your friends knew this couple that was having a party at their house and you were invited to join as well. You had both decided to get dressed, well, in the case of Timothée undress, because he just wore his jacket, torso bare, with the excuse of the weather being “too hot”. You just widened your eyes looking at him and nodded eagerly making him laugh and rub your whole face with his hand playfully.
However, when you got out of the apartment waiting for Tim to lock the door, you quickly realized that he just wanted to show off his abs after all the training for his new film. Even though you were wearing a long dress, your back was exposed and you could feel the chilly breeze hit your spine.
You didn’t have many days left in Italy but you smiled at the thought of your lovely stress-free vacation. You headed to the balcony only to realize that it was actually very narrow and right underneath your feet and the layers of concrete, was running a canal.
As your eyes gazed at the water dancing slowly in harmony, a pair of hands lightly pushed you to the front making you gasp and slightly jump. Timothée quickly turned you with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist and leaned forward to kiss you. You chuckled moving your head to the side for his lips to land on your cheek.
« Got scared? », he laughed. « As if I’d ever let you fall. »
« I didn’t get scared, » you gritted your teeth holding tightly the sides of his face to look at him. He smiled warmly, slowly his gaze moving to the ground and then with a quick move he pecked your lips.
« I got our drinks, » Tim said separating from you, getting them from the inside table where he had placed them. « And Stéphane gave me something, » he fumbled in his pocket finally getting out a joint.
« Ooh, » you grinned taking a seat on the narrow balcony. He chuckled and sat across from you on the railings. « You are going to fall right into that canal and everyone tomorrow will think that I killed Timothée Chalamet, » you said.
« Oh my God, » he shook his head with a smile taking your feet on his lap to remove your heels.
« Sorry, I care, » you widened your eyes lightly tilting your head to the side.
« Sorry, I care, » he tried to imitate your voice making it a little too high-pitched causing you to almost spit your drink. Timothée looked at you with an impish smile, the one he always gave you after doing something incredibly funny - according to him. You lightly kicked him on his belly. He gasped squeezing your legs for revenge but finally brought them close to his mouth to kiss them.
« I hate you, you always make fun of me, » you pouted your lips sadly.
« Oh, come on, » Tim smiled at you. « You can’t stay mad at me. »
« I can try, » you clenched your jaw to stop smiling.
« You can try? », Tim asked playfully, as he let your legs down and sat next to you. He pulled one arm around your shoulder bringing you closer to kiss your forehead, as your lips landed on his chest.
« I’m going to miss this, » you said. Tim’s lips separated and looked down as your fingers followed the line of his jaw, to his neck, to his chest, pulling his jacket to the side. You leaned down to place kisses on top of his soft skin.
« These were the best days of my life, » he pulled your hair out of your face, behind your ears.
« Mine too, » you breathed out getting your drink back and taking another sip.
« It’s fucking ridiculous, » he mumbled after a long pause. « I wish people could just mind their own damn business. I can’t do that, » Tim held your hand intertwining your fingers. « I can’t do that, » he kissed your lips. « Or that, » he moved to your neck.
You took a long breath, your eyes moving up in the night sky at the stars that seemed like gems scattered around the black veil. His hand cupped the left side of your face pulling the hair behind your ear, his thumb moving alongside your jawline, as he kissed you deeply.
You felt his tongue lightly licking your lips making you chuckle against his mouth. He smiled back, as his curls fell on your forehead almost covering your eyes.
He slowly pulled back and finished his drink before leaving his jacket to the side. You were staring at him. You had seen his body so many times, yet you were always looking at his porcelain, sculptured, skin as if you were gazing at a statue of an angel and had to pray.
He took out of his pocket the joint and placed it between his lips while searching for a lighter. You leaned down and took it from his mouth to place it on yours. He glanced at you once and smiled.
« Got it, » Tim said trying to light the joint for you.
You breathed in slowly and then released a cloud out. You smiled rubbing your eyes once and then passing it to him.
« Oh my God, you hear that? », he suddenly widened his eyes slowly moving his head to the beat. Without much thinking, you got his jacket and put it on, his smell slipping onto your body. You could feel the joint working as you pulled your hair out of the jacket, hearing Timothée’s voice in the background singing along to the rhythm. « It’s time to make your mind up, aight // To wake your mind up, aight // Ai-aight, we-we aight, aight // We, we, we ai-aight. »
You chuckled watching Timmy vibing with eyes closed, his shoulders and his head swinging smoothly like air running around trees.
You closed your eyes too.
sink ༊*·˚
m.list ◦ askbox
synopsis: regulus is gone forever and you can’t believe it
for a more painful experience read his last letter first
Death is said to be the great equalizer. Laying low the rich, the poor, the chaste, and the glutenous. Yet in the end, it is not the one who dies that feels the most sorrow, but rather those around him. The ones who loved, and were loved, the ones that stayed behind.
It wasn’t a bang, an apocalypse, or some biblical disaster that ended your world, but some sloppily written words on a crumpled paper.
It's so cold here and I can’t stop remembering. My heart has no pity on me.
I love you forever.
R.A.B.
Your lips twitched still looking at the paper, forehead slowly creasing as you brought the paper close to your mouth until it touched your lips. It was his damn scent, his damn handwriting, his damn words.
« Is... », you pressed your eyes shut for a second and then lightly shook your head, glancing at the Elf that was standing right in front of you, frozen like a small statue. « Is this some kind of sick joke? » His eyes fell to the ground at the sound of your voice. What could the poor thing say to console you when he could barely console himself?
Kreacher chose not to reply. Words didn't matter anymore.
The last words that mattered were his, and he had spoken them.
You sealed your mouth, biting hard your upper lip as if trying to rip off your skin.
« Kreacher, » you held your tears inside, "this isn’t funny." Your body felt hot, yet you were shivering. You were paralyzed, yet your jaw was trembling.
You were utterly shocked, unable to understand the words that were written on that paper. The world was crumbling around you and you were the last one standing.
The Elf breathed out and shook his head. You leaned yours trying to catch his stare and forced a small smile that fell immediately.
« This isn’t funny, » your voice cracked pressing your mouth hard.
Kreacher slightly raised his gaze only for your glossy eyes to meet his cold orbs. Your lips separated studying carefully his features. Puffy cheeks stained with droplets, a long hooked nose colored in a red shade all enlarged from crying, pinkish thin lips. You locked eyes, but he couldn’t keep looking at you with that minimal shadow of hope you were still carrying in your heart. The grief was too heavy for him and was pulling his weak body down.
« Please, tell me this is a joke. »
« Master would never joke about something like that, Miss. »
« Then where is he, Kreacher? », your brows knitted together trying to comfort each other. « He was supposed to be here. He promised to be here. »
You wished you could’ve misinterpreted the silence of the creature, but even if you did, nothing was going to change that didn't that slipped from his mouth seconds ago.
Nothing was going to bring him back.
« Why isn’t he here? », your eyes were sparkling from the boiling water beneath them, floods concealing behind the painful expression of loss. Kreacher breathed out heavily looking at your stare.
« Y/N... », he spoke softly.
« Where is Regulus? », you asked tears slowly streaming down your hot cheeks as you squeezed your eyes to stop them.
« Y/N... », Kreacher repeated giving you a pleading look.
« No ! », you cried loudly.
« Master Regulus won’t come, » his stare fell to the ground.
At these words, you gradually took a shaky breath, pulling up your nostrils. Your expression deformed, giving place to anger and the rage of a Maenad. Your eyes turned hard and flinty, glaring tightly at the Elf, which took a step back, his face questioning your look.
« Where is Regulus ? », you asked clenching your jaw to control your voice. Kreacher shook his head.
« I-I can’t say, » he glanced at you horrified. Kreacher swore that he saw flames coming out of your eyes that night. You were terrifying to look at, like something written by Edgar Allan Poe. « He wouldn’t want you to know. »
« Where is Regulus ? » Every word came out with a small pause as you walked forward to approach him. The poor Elf had never seen you like this, no one had. He shook his head.
« I promised- »
« Where the fuck is Regulus ? », you yelled loudly. Without getting a response, your hands fumbled on your clothes bringing forward your wand. « I swear, Kreacher, if you don’t tell me where Regulus is... I will fucking kill you. »
« Y/N, Regulus- Regulus is gone. » Your eyes twitched and your hand trembled uncontrollably, pointing at the Elf.
« Don’t say that ! », you cried. « Tell me where is he or I’ll kill you ! »
« Regulus is dead ! », poor Kreacher cried back. You had to hear it and accept it. Besides, he didn't really care about his life anymore, not without his Master, his friend. You pressed your lips into a hard expression and blinded by pain and sorrow you spoke.
« Avada Kedav- »
You didn’t finish your sentence.
You couldn’t finish your sentence.
You threw your wand away and fell to the ground sent into spasms filled with kneeing grief. Devastated and enraged you burst into tears.
No one could understand the pain you felt. It wasn’t the one with the screams, tears, and sobs. It was the other one; the one with the welled eyes and sobs that were coming up to your throat, and you would rather bite your lips and let the painful tears choke you, break your heart in pieces, than allow them to get out for the world to see.
And as you stayed there, curled to the ground, away from the world and everything that was alive, with Kreacher’s shaky hand on your shoulder and his last letter pressed against your chest, murmuring over and over those same words, he promised to be here, like a prayer coming out of your lips, his scent traveling from the paper to the world, you felt the memories that once warmed you, tearing your bones apart.
And as your hand slipped to the dewy grass, you wondered how could the Earth allow this to happen. Of all the times, the Earth decided to take him at that specific moment, when the branches were blooming and the spring was painting the ground.
Oh, Regulus, you thought, can you listen to me from up there ?
Without knowing it, you were with him, always on his mind. You were the only reason he had doubts about what he was going to do. He thought about returning so many times he had lost count along the way. But that was him keeping his promise. Being good and doing the right thing.
Regulus was sitting on the ground. It was so cold, colder than his house, colder than any place he had ever been to. So cold, that was spreading shivers to every part of his body. His breath was coming out along with salty tears traveling all the way down to his neck.
It was cold, dark and there was water.
He stood up. It was time.
Tears were still stained in his eyes, but he didn’t plan to wipe them because they were for you and he wanted something of you to be with him in his last moments, to somehow have you by his side and feel less lonely in that pitch black abyss of a cave.
He tried to smile thinking that you might be watching him from a corner and laughing at his expression. He didn’t want to look like a coward in your eyes.
Regulus took a deep breath.
The only thing that was comforting him was that in the distant future, you would meet again one day, and then all the nights, all the stars, all the songs, would be yours.
Without much thinking, he walked into the cave.
It was even colder, ever darker and water was everywhere.
And just so you know, his last thought was you. And his last breath was your name.
the photo booth ༊*·˚
m.list ◦ askbox
synopsis: in which you and timothée are taking photos in a photo booth and you tell him that you love him for the first time right before the picture is taken
The secret was out. You and Timothée were officially dating according to all the Internet’s gossip blogs. Apparently, someone had spotted you in New York at a cinema and decided to capture the moment.
It was your birthday and Timothée knew how much you loved going to the theater, so, after extensive research, he found a place where there was a six-hour tribute to your favorite director. He didn’t really like the director, never understood them, and most definitely had no desire to sit for six hours in the uncomfortable cinema seat. However, he was going to endure, because he bought tickets for a different cause, to watch a six-hour tribute of you staring at the screen.
But it was the damn moment he decided to pull you closer and press a kiss to the side of your mouth - he really couldn't help it - when he heard the clicking sound of a phone camera coming from the back. He turned around, annoyance painted on his face as he noticed two girls in the back seats lowering their phones and whispering something to each other.
The same night, the whole Internet knew.
At first, you were both freaked out, drowned by the mess that was prevailing online and the fans that were going feral. Not that it really mattered what people thought about your relationship or the assumptions they were making about how serious it was or how long it was going to last, but you were relieved watching that most of the responses you got were positive.
So, instead of hiding it for fear of getting caught, you decided to embrace it and do all the things you wanted to do like a normal couple. Besides, you weren’t criminals, you were young and in love.
At least you were in love, very much in fact, that you were desperately trying to find a proper way to express your feelings for days. You weren't really looking for a response. You just wanted to let him know that you loved him, that you cared for him so much to the point of love.
« You’ve been awfully quiet for quite a while now, » Timothée said as you walked down crowded streets hand in hand, fingers tightly intertwined together, touching the other’s soft skin.
Your 35mm had run out of film so you were on your way to the nearest film shop, which wasn’t very close to Tim’s house but it didn’t matter because you loved taking long walks; the autumn air fanning on your face, pulling back your hair, and the small chills running down your spine. Also, New York was really pretty in autumn (if you removed the smell of urine and shit); fewer crowds, red trees, leaves filling the streets.
« Me? », you looked up at him with a hint of amusement in your gaze at his observation and the tiniest smile.
« Yeah, what’s wrong? », he chuckled eyes fixed on you, biting his lips. You didn't respond for a moment turning your stare to the ground. Timothée gulped, still staring at you eager to find out what was disturbing your mind the last days.
« Nothing’s wrong, » you mumbled.
The thing about Timothée was that he always believed you were way out of his league and he got way too lucky to find you, a friend and a partner all at once. Being with you was so comfortable and familiar, as if he knew you his whole life. Everything felt so natural when you were together. You were the perfect balance, you were the Yin to his Yang, one completing the other.
And the truth was that your relationship wasn’t just about balance, comfort, and ease, it was also about love - mostly about love.
Timothée had never told you how much he loved you, though he was sure that it was going to slip out of his mouth at some point, but for the moment he was just too scared of losing you, that his tongue was tangled in knots only at the thought.
« You think I don’t know when my baby is being troubled? » Your lips lightly pouted at the sound of him calling you ‘baby’ and you tied your arms higher on his bicep leaning closer to press a kiss on his shoulder. « Come on, did I do something? Was I acting like a dick? », he smiled.
« You weren’t acting like a dick, » you laughed a little getting closer to his warm body. « Quite the opposite, actually. »
« Oh, » he furrowed his brows getting the fallen pieces of hair out of your face. « Alright then. » Noticing his expression you leaned your head to the side.
« Really, » you added, « nothing's wrong. » He just pressed his lips together, burying his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants.
« If you say so, I believe you, » he forced a smile, as sweet as possible to hide his concern. Even though Timothée was an actor, one of the best, in reality, he wasn't really good with lies. You could hear it in his voice that he was pretending but decided to ignore it, at least for the moment, and bring it up when you got back home.
« We’re here, » you pointed with your head at the camera store.
« They have a photo booth, » Tim noticed as you both walked inside. « Fun fact, I’ve never taken photos in one of those. »
« Really? », you widened your eyes in surprise.
« Yeah, » he chuckled at your expression.
« Then, we should definitely get some pictures, » you said with a smile. He kissed your head once, the intoxicating smell of your honey, cinnamon shampoo filling his nostrils.
You both greeted the employee as you moved further inside looking for roll films. Timmy wandered around the place with his hoodie on, while you crouched in front of some stands searching for the very basic Kodak Portra 400.
You were skilled (and by skilled I mean you've been in that store countless times,) so it didn't take long for you to find it. Quickly you paid for your rolls and you dragged Timothée to the photo booth.
« You are so cute, » you said making him chuckle as you lowered his hoodie and ruffled his curls a little. He watched you fixing his hair, but the thoughts he was having were overwhelming so he breathed out before speaking again.
« Sorry, I have to ask again but- », he held your hands close to his chest, gaze slowly falling down, « I just feel like the last couple of days something’s going on. »
« Timothée, » you said in a serious tone, as his grip relaxed and your hands slithered to the back of his neck. « Everything is fine between us. More than fine. »
« You’re sure? », his eyes widened holding your wrists. You nodded.
« One thousand percent sure. Now, let’s get our pics! »
You put in some coins, closing the red curtain behind you. Tim pulled you into his lap and you grinned goofily hearing the clicking of the camera.
Maybe it was just his cute expressions, his smell, the way he was holding you so tightly and reassuringly telling you ‘I’m here, I’ll always be here,’ or that you didn’t want him to think something was off in your relationship, that just couldn't restrain you from telling him. All these days, you were trying so hard to find the perfect, the most romantic moment to let him know, but you couldn't wait any longer. You wanted him to know.
You looked at him deeply making him return the stare.
« Okay, you want to know what's going on? » With these words, Tim’s brows lightly furrowed but quickly bobbed his head. « I love you. » You pressed your mouth shut in an attempt to hide a growing grin as you looked at Timothée’s surprised face which quickly heated up flaming red, lips separated and eyebrows slightly raised. You couldn’t help but laugh forgetting about the clicking sound in the back.
« You love me, » Tim repeated slowly before you touched his mouth with your lips and he stayed there too shocked and frozen to reply to your sweet kiss.
« Look at you! », you pointed at him as you got the four pictures in your hands. Timothée was still jaw-dropped. He truly believed for a few moments that you were going to break up with him. He didn’t give any attention to the photos instead kept staring at your cheerful face. « Your face! You are so- »
« I love you too, » Tim finally spoke. Your expression softened raising your stare and slowly smiling at him. « Very much. » He nodded eagerly.
« Okay, » you bit your lower lip watching the huge grin on his face and the way he clenched his jaw. The moment your eyes met he couldn’t help but look away. Timothée approached you to see the pics, hands wrapped around your waist, head on your shoulder as he pressed a kiss on your neck leaving a ‘mwah’ sound that only made you giggle.
« Okay. »
rainy day ༊*·˚
m.list ◦ askbox
synopsis: it’s a rainy day and you are bored, so you decide to watch a movie with your kids
It was a rainy day; the world blurred. A dusty sky with its veiled hush was covering like a blanket the already dead calm.
Your stare was fixed at the window, watching droplets drip down, as young winds whispered at the glass surface. A huge smokey shadow covered the buildings around, deepening their color, while showering the trees at the glistering road, pattering sharply on their leaves.
No one had warned you about the sudden change of weather in the middle of summer.
It was one of those days, calendars blank and empty and telephones off. You could go nowhere because of the weather and you could do nothing but keep watching this otherworldly winter unravelling in front of you.
Earlier Timothée was so bored that he asked you to cut his hair - just a little - and you made him cut yours back. And now you both sat at the kitchen table, eating some leftover spaghetti while discussing your upcoming vacation.
It was mysteriously cold, so cold that Timothée took off his sweater and offered it to you. Wet hair was pinching your neck and hands were deeply buried in the sleeves, trapped between dark blue knots. You were both so tired and bored, eyes almost closing. The only light that entered the room was these faint altered rays, lining the furniture and making shadows jump up and down.
Flip-flops clapping against the floor broke the hypnotizing atmosphere. Before your eyes even turned to the door, you both knew that those little steps belonged to your daughter, Irene. She was always running, as if someone was chasing her.
« Baby ! », Timothée called her in a melodious tone. He pressed his lips into a grin when she popped at the door.
« Hello ! », you opened your mouth into a surprised smile.
« I’m bored ! », she whined desperately.
« Bored ? », he asked, like he just heard the craziest conspiracy theory, and stood up from his chair to open the lights.
The room burst with blinding rays, so blinding that you had to squint your eyes.
« Yeah, » she pouted her mouth and raised her hands in Tim’s direction. He took her in his arms, letting her claw tight onto his chest, fingers slowly drifting on the back of his neck and fumbling on the silver chain that hung around him.
« What do you wanna do ? », he whispered in her ear, his lips brushing on her shoulder.
« I don’t know, » Irene mumbled.
You couldn’t restrain your smile, and even though you didn’t participate in that sweet father-daughter moment, you felt your heart steeping pure happiness. And suddenly, you were alive, and awake, and full of energy. The same spark that appeared in your eyes, you could see it in Timothée’s as well. It was magical how your kids could change your entire mood by just appearing in a room and whining about being bored.
« You don’t know ? », Tim asked softly, pulling some roots of hair behind her ears. « We can do something all together. Mom and I are bored too. »
« Ren, where is your brother ? », you asked then. She slightly raised her eyes at you and shrugged.
« Don’t know, » she mumbled with her sweet childish voice and then breathed out heavily. « I’m bored ! » Tim let her sit on the kitchen counter as he moved to make some coffee. « Mom, I’m bored ! »
« Okay, what do you want to do ? We could play a board game, all four of us. »
« We always play board games when it’s raining, » she pouted her lips again, arms hugging herself and feet kicking the air. « And Marc always wins... »
« What are you all doing here ? »
« There he is, my sweet boy ! », Timothée turned his head back.
« Hi, » eyes scanned all of you.
« Come here, love, » you opened your arms. Marc walked closer leaning his back on the table beside you. He looked at you for a while before speaking.
« It’s nice, » he said, his fingers moving to your hair. « Did you cut it ? »
« Yes, daddy helped me cut it. It’s nice, isn’t it ?», you smiled and planted a kiss on his skin. You heard Timothée chuckle in the background as Irene gasped, rushing to get back down at her feet.
« Hey, careful there, » Tim said. She ran to you and started touching your hair, twirling pieces and playing with them. Gradually she took a seat in your lap and you brought her closer until her head nestled on your chest just like when she was a baby. Your hand pulled your boy close into a tight hug and your mouth touched his forehead.
« Ah mom ! », he groaned trying to set himself free.
« Oh, don’t play it so tough, I know you love hugs, » you kissed him again all over the face, laughing at his failed attempts to free himself before he actually managed to escape.
« I don’t need hugs ! », Marc groaned.
« You don’t ? », you ruffled his hair. « Dad cut his hair too, you know. » They both turned to him.
« Dad, dad, can I see ? », Irene asked excitedly.
« It’s just the edges, baby. Nothing noticeable, » Tim answered to Irene, pulling his hair back.
« I want to cut my hair too ! Dad, will you cut my hair ? »
« There’s no way I’m cutting your hair, » Timothée replied with no hesitation. « If you want to, we can call the hairdresser tomorrow and... »
« But you cut mom’s, why not mine ? »
« Isn’t it better if we go to a professional ? », he asked her, walking closer to you. « I don’t want to accidentally ruin your hair. »
« But mom’s hair is not ruined ! You’ll be careful. »
« Will you stop being such a baby ? », Marc popped up but she just stuck her tongue out at him and he imitated her move.
« Hey, hey, hey, guys, » you entered. « Be nice to each other. Come on, you are brother and sister. » They breathed out at your words and rolled their eyes. « So, » you clapped your hands together, trying to change the subject. « What are we going to do ? »
« We could watch a movie, » Tim suggested, slithering his arms around Marc’s shoulders.
« Yes ! », Marc looked up at him eyes wide.
« Yes ! Puss in Boots ! »
« No ! Not again ! »
« Okay, why don’t you go to the living room to pick a movie as I cut you some fruit ? », you let Irene to the ground.
« Okay ! », she kissed your cheek before storming out. « First one that goes to the living room picks the movie ! »
« Hey ! That’s not fair ! », Marc yelled following his sister’s steps. « Dad she cheated ! »
You glanced at Timothée as you stood up, his eyes still fixed on the door even when they disappeared, hoping for a small head to pop again and run in your arms.
« I love them so much but they’re crazy, » his words made you chuckle. He grinned, his stare following you as you moved to the counter to get some fruits. Tim helped you, getting the plates from the upper cupboards. « I feel a little guilty. Do you think I should’ve cut their hair ? Irene does need a haircut. Her hair is way too long. »
« No Timothée, you can’t always do what they want, » you replied focused on your work. « They literally have you wrapped around their little fingers. »
« Come on, » he leaned against the counter. You gave him a look that made him laugh. « Maybe just a little. » His fingers moved to your hair. « Your hair is still wet. » You touched his head, hand sliding down to his cheek.
« Yours too. » He grinned, stare fixed on you, watching your every move. Even if you felt his eyes you tried to ignore them.
« You need help ? », Tim asked then, coming closer, standing right next to you.
« No, love, » you replied. His arms circled around your body as he pressed his lips on your cheek. You giggled at the ticklish feeling of his cold fingers running under your sweater and around your stomach, causing small spasms in your waist. « I’m holding a knife ! »
« Then put the knife down and kiss me ! », he pinched your skin.
« Ah ! Okay ! Okay ! », you let it fall down.
You turned to him and cupped his face, bringing him down until his hair touched your forehead and his lips lingered close to yours. He tilted his head to the side, a sweet smile marked on his mouth. And with eyes closed, he kissed you softly and settling. When you separated you held his cheeks squeezed, and sprinkled kisses all around his face, making him let out the prettiest giggle.
« Why don’t you go and check on the kids ? », you asked.
« You don’t need help ? », he asked.
« No. »
« No ? You sure ? »
« Yeah, just take the coffee, please. »
Timothée stared at you for a few moments smiling fondly like he wanted to tell you something.
« Okay, » he pecked your cheek one last time, stroking your back on his way out.
« Found a movie ? » They both mumbled something in response, laying on the couch in front of the TV remote. « Irene, baby, turn your head, » Tim said. She listened, even though she was too focused on watching Marc changing the movies. He set her curls free and while balancing the scrunchie in between his teeth, he pulled them up high, out of her face.
« Not that one ! », passionately her voice echoed.
« Mars ? », he asked then.
Timothée loved your kids. He loved watching them, spending time with them, taking care of them. And the more they grew, the more he loved them. That’s why he couldn’t stand the view of his boy having both hands under his t-shirt, hugging his shoulders.
« Mmm... »
« Are you cold, baby ? »
« Just a little. »
« Want me to bring you a sweater ? »
« Yes, please. »
« Ren ? »
« I’m not cold. »
« Alright, » he lightly laughed, thinking how funny it must have looked that he just couldn’t sit for two seconds without having to stand up again.
A few moments later, you walked inside, taking a seat next to your kids.
« You picked a movie ? », you asked, leaving the plates on top of the table.
« Marc, Marc, Marc, Marc... », Irene held his arm and pointed at the TV.
« Ohh, there’s a new Spider-Verse movie ! », he looked at his sister. They both burst into giggles of excitement. You grinned at their reaction.
« We haven’t seen the first one, will we understand anything ? », you asked.
« Of course, mom, it’s Spider-Man ! », Irene said. « Don’t you know Spider-Man ? »
« Mom, I love this movie ! », Marc added. « We have to watch it. »
« Here I am, » you turned your head, watching Timothée stride towards you. You smiled. « What are we watching ? »
« Across the Spider-Verse. »
« Ooh, I’ve heard very good things about the movie. Let’s watch it, » he said before turning to Marc. « Hands up. » The boy raised his arms and Tim passed the sweater over his head. « Here’s the other arm, dummy. » He rubbed his knuckles against his head.
« Ah ! », Marc let out a painful groan with hair laying messily all around him. Timothée laughed and grabbed his head with both hands pressing a kiss on top of it and leaving a ‘mwah’ sound. He then got his feet on top of him, letting Marc lay on the couch more comfortably.
« Mom, can you hug me ? », Irene asked. You grinned and quickly opened your arms for her to tilt her head on your shoulder.
« Okay, let’s watch. »
apricity ༊*·˚
m.list ◦ askbox
synopsis: it’s been two years since you and timothée broke up but with a kid in the middle nostalgia is all over the air
It had been two years and life kept going without him.
With time, you came to accept your new reality and the fact that you would never be the same person as you once were.
But there were days when nostalgia covered your heart like a dark cloud stretching in the bright blue sky. Days, you remembered tangled hands, flushed cheeks, silent stares and warm smiles. Days you prayed to last forever.
You missed everything.
Whenever you were together, you were glowing. Everyone seemed to notice how brighter you looked, your hair, your eyes, your smiles. There were only sunny days for you, summer and spring anywhere you looked, as if the other was giving you life.
You were in love. You could feel it and so did everyone around you. No one had ever seen you like that, so carefree, so light, so happy, so warm, so easy to love.
You used to be inseparable; four arms, four legs, no faces for the world to see because you were always too busy looking at the other, blind for your surroundings.
But the day everything ended, you had never felt him more far away.
Your heart broke and with it promises, dreams and hopes for a future that never came.
You remembered your voice barely coming out, with eyes all welled up and swollen, trying to explain to him that you loved him but you couldn’t go on like this. Timothée had to be away for days, weeks, months, and then he returned for a while to golden the pill before he had to leave again. It wasn’t good for Marc to live in the eye of this craziness. Your kid needed his father and you needed him as well.
Your love had slowly turned into a one-sided contract. You had to give in order to receive. And you did. You changed your city to be with him, changed your job, left your parents behind and a whole life you had been building for years, only to spend more time apart than together.
You remembered him standing there, right in front of you, with cheeks red, once swelling with happiness, suddenly swelling with tears, shaky hands and chattering teeth, trying to understand you and promising that you could make it, everything would change if you gave him one more chance.
But you were irrevocable and very very tired.
The years passed by and Marc turned two, three, four. He vaguely remembered the two of you together apart from birthdays you’d plan, photographs in old albums and stories his grandparents and other members of the family would tell him.
He never really had a problem with you living separately; he got used to it, and it was kind of fun until some kids pointed that out and curiosity grew his need to know why you weren’t living in the same house, together like most parents, why he couldn’t have both of you, why, when you used to be so happy, so in love. What changed ? And was it so tragic ?
You had talked with Timothée about this and decided not to tell him anything. He was too young to understand. Maybe one day when he got older, you could have this conversation.
But Marc was stubborn and wouldn’t stop asking questions. You decided to do something about it, to soothe him and let him know that maybe you and his father lived separately but when it involved him you were together.
Tim came by your house every second Friday and he stayed to spend some time the three of you before taking Marc for the weekend - since Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays were his days. It was surreal at first, thankfully not as awkward as you expected, but you got used to it.
Truth was that you missed him and you felt painfully guilty every now and then, thinking of how things could’ve evolved between you. A tiny knife was twisting in your heart, slowly and bitterly, whispering with every twist words of nostalgia, telling you that you could’ve made it in the end and that you could’ve been like that every single day - only if you had been a little more patient and your ego hadn’t ruined everything.
Every time you looked at him, he was feeding your fantasy and the deepest spark of hope of ending up together eventually. But you had accepted that it wasn’t going to happen.
It was damn hope that was breaking him as well. If you missed him once, he missed you ten times more.
You left such an imprint on his heart, it was hard for him to ignore it and pretend it never existed. He looked for you everywhere, in all of his favourite places, in every person he met, trying to find your similarities and your differences. But no one’s love was like yours. Everyone was too sour, too rotten, too bitter.
He wanted you.
Two years in and he had completely lost himself in the past. The desire to turn the past into the present was boiling more and more each time he saw you. He wanted everything with you; happiness, elation, impatient expectancy, worry, idyllic calm, wrath, anger, despair, hurt, all those emotions, pure or ugly, the good and all bad counterparts, he wanted them with you.
Life went on.
It was winter, January, the weather harsh with biting cold ready to freeze off any uncovered parts. It was snowing after many years.
Down at the street, you looked like dark blurs against the backdrop of white.
It was the first time Marc saw snow and he wanted to go out and play one last time before falling asleep. You wouldn’t let him this late at night awake but you and Timothée also wanted to see it before everything melted the next morning.
« I don’t want to put this on ! », Marc whined, running away, hopping over ice ridges and kicking up the powdery snow under the faint, golden rays of square streetlights.
« Ah, got you ! », Timothée managed to pick him up after so much running. The boy tried to jump off his grasp while laughing uncontrollably as his father rubbed his nose against his and smeared kisses all over his face. « Stubborn little monkey. »
« Marcy, » you breathed out exhausted from all the chasing, holding his scarf, beanie and gloves. « Please, put them on, baby. »
« Ah, why ? », he threw his head back on his father as you crouched in front of him.
« Why ? », you asked in fake surprise, patiently swirling the scarf around him, one, two, three loops until his neck was completely covered and a part of his mouth as well, muffling his protests and laughs. « Because I want you to be warm… and healthy… », you cupped his cheeks and gave him a kiss. « With ears… » He giggled when you put on his beanie and adjusted it.
Timothée smiled sweetly at you.
He remembered how scared you were when you first found out that you were pregnant and how many nights he stayed awake and tried to gather your tears, reassuring you that you were going to be a great mother. You had many doubts but he had none.
It turned out, he was right. In fact, « great » was an understatement.
Very few parents would be as patient and caring as you. Timothée watched you crouched in front of Marc, trying to reach his height, taking his hands on yours and putting his gloves on while explaining with clear words that you wanted him strong and healthy so that he’d be able to run, and play, and do all the things he loved so much. Even when he threw the beanie off his head and ran away, you didn’t raise your tone to yell at him just let out a hushed chuckle.
« Never gonna catch me ! Never gonna win ! »
« Please, make him wear it, » you smiled with a painful grimace. Timothée looked at you as you shook away the snow from the cloth before passing it to him.
« Oh, don’t worry. He’ll put this on. »
« I don’t. » A boyish grin appeared on his lips.
« Dad ! », Marc stopped for a second, waiting for him to chase him.
« Oh, I’m coming ! I’m gonna get you ! », Tim said loud enough for Marc to leave a small scream and keep running. Timothée followed him quickly, jumping into frozen caps of snow. « I’m gonna get you ! », he cried and Marc burst out in laughter, giving him small glances on top of his shoulder.
You laughed, watching them chase one another, tossing small snowballs and slipping in the snow every now and then, until Tim caught up to him, caged him in his embrace and wore the beanie on his head, sliding it down until it reached his nose. Marc giggled deliriously as Timothée nudged him and tickled him, their laughter echoing louder and louder through the night, bringing warmth to your heart. He eventually helped him adjust his hat better.
« It scratches ! », Marc whined again.
« Why are you so stubborn ? », Tim nudged his side again.
« Dad ! Stop ! », he laughed. His feet suddenly slipped, and Timothée tried to catch him but Marc was sneaky and dragged him to the plush hills of snow. He climbed then on top of him with no breath. « Surender ? », Timothée huffed before raising his hands up, and nodded eagerly.
« Boys, y’alright ? », you asked with furrowed brows a bit concerned.
« Dad surrendered ! », Marc smiled at you, as you slowly approached them.
Marc tented his hand for you but when you gave it to him, he pulled you down just like he did with his father.
« You’re good ? », Tim turned to you.
« I’m good, » you muttered behind your teeth, trying to get up. Marc’s laughter was loud and clear in the back. « But this little monkey won’t be if I catch him. » He let out a yelp and quickly made his way back to the house, tossing snow out of his path.
« Let me help you, » you gave Tim your hand once you stood up. He looked at it for a second. « Don’t be so suspicious, » a smile appeared on your lips when you saw him chuckling. You rolled your eyes and looked away. « Offer just expired. » As you were about to take your hand back Timothée grabbed it and pulled you down right next to him.
« Ah ! Like father, like son ! » He laughed.
« Looks like he took something from me after all. »
« Something ? Tim, he looks exactly like you. » He grinned proudly at your words and you nodded eagerly. « It’s cunning. »
« And he has my mischievousness. » You smiled. « He’s a good kid, » he said as an afterthought. You looked at him for a moment before your stare fell down. The situation was tragicomic, it deserved a bitter smile.
« Yeah, he is, » you murmured.
Those little moments you spent together reminded you of how much you missed being next to him. You didn’t even have to talk, just sit in silence. It was painful knowing you’d never feel like that again without a hint of pain.
Timothée furrowed his brows, his eyes following you as you got up, and, this time without offering your hand, headed to the house.
He ran behind you, the sound of his boots sinking into the smooth surface making you smile. You turned to wait for him and once he reached you, he playfully touched the back of your neck with his bare hand. A long gasp escaped your mouth and your back arched, the cold transferring goosebumps down your spine. You pushed him away, mumbling all sorts of curses as he joined you inside laughing.
« Hands ? », you pointed at Marc who was bringing a pile of toys to the living room. Timothée checked on his watch the time and it was too late.
« Washed ‘em ! »
« You sure ? », you raised a brow.
« I washed them, smell, » he raised one hand for you to see which caused some toys to fall to the ground. Marc groaned.
« I trust you. »
Tim grasped some of the toys from his hug to help him and you picked up the rest from the ground.
« Where are you going with all of these, baby ? It’s time for bed. »
« But I’m not sleepy, dad... » You left the toys on top of the living room table.
« You need to rest, you know what time it is ? », Timothée rubbed his shoulder gently. Marc looked at him pleadingly.
« I wanna stay and play with you... »
« But we’re gonna sleep too, » Tim said. « We’ll put you to bed, and then we’ll sleep because we’re very tired. »
« No, I wanna stay with you... Please... »
« Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do, » you said taking his hand in yours. « We’ll leave all the toys here and you’ll go to bed now- »
« No, please, mum, » he squeezed your palm.
« Just listen, I’m making a suggestion, » you said and Tim just couldn’t hold on to his smile. « The later you sleep the less energy you’ll have in the morning and you won’t be able to play. So, what we’re gonna do is leave everything right here and in the morning you can play for as long as you want. » Marc breathed out and reluctantly nodded.
« Will you wake me up early ? », he mumbled raising his hands for Timothée to take him in his arms. He did so pressing a kiss on his cheek as Marc failed to suppress a yawn.
« Of course I will, » you ruffled his hair.
« Promise ? »
« Yeah. »
« Swear to God ? » You chuckled.
« Yeah, swear to God. »
« Hope to die ? »
« Hope to die. » He smiled sleepily, letting his head fall on his father’s shoulder as you headed into his bedroom.
You leaned against the doorframe while Tim put him to his bed.
« Tuck me in, please ? », he murmured. Timothée pulled the covers around him. He his hair back to press a kiss on his forehead and you walked closer. You leaned on top of his bed to kiss his cheek for good night.
« Good night, baby. »
« Love you, monkey. »
« Love you too, dad, » his hand wrapped around yours for a moment. « Stay till I fall asleep ? » You nodded in return.
You stayed in silence for a few minutes, watching Marc slowly close his eyes. He was sprawled out on his tummy, nose pressed on the side of the pillow, nostrils flaring, releasing small snores from his mouth.
Timothée stared at you as you pushed gently curls out of his eyes. He had forgotten how it felt to be loved by you but he could see it in Marc, the most delicate and pure kind of love.
A grin appeared on your lips, and you turned to him.
« I love looking at him when he’s sleeping, » you whispered. « He reminds me of when he was a baby. Remember ? »
Every time he watched how much you loved your son and cared about him, it reminded him of why he had fallen in love with you in the first place. He fell for you because you cared about the ones you loved and your love reflected on them, that’s why he was glowing every time he was with you. And he had missed that glow and you, the one causing it.
You could feel his gaze on you so you turned to him.
« I remember, » he said softly. « And I miss everything... » Your eyes stayed on him. « Is it too late ? »
The next morning, you had breakfast in a strange silence, only Marc talking and you softly smiling and nodding at whatever he was saying. You avoided Timothée’s eyes and he preferred to look at his plate, which Marc found weird and exchanged glances between the two of you trying to find out what had happened all of a sudden.
« Alright, » you kissed Marc’s forehead as he put on his seatbelt in the back of Timothée’s car. « Have fun with dad. »
« Bye, mum ! », Marc waved his hand.
« I’m gonna miss you, baby, » you said and closed the car door. He pouted his lips and placed his palm on the window. You placed your hand on top of his for a moment before turning to Tim. « Okay, drive safe. » He was biting his lips clearly troubled by your last night’s conversation. « We’re good, Timothée, » you meant to reassure him that everything was fine but he just motioned to your house.
« I’ll walk you to the door, » he said, following beside you with hands buried in his pockets. Your mind was blurry, couldn’t really think anything, just waited for him to take back everything he said, to tell you that he got carried away by nostalgia and it was just a delirium.
You wrapped your arms around you as he lingered on the doorframe.
« About last night, » he looked at you. You shook your head dismissively, facing the ground, not being able to hold his gaze.
« We’re good, Timothée. »
« No, euh… », he breathed out thinking of how to say what he wanted to say. But it was your time to speak and you had only one question to ask.
« Did you mean it ? » He nodded. Your eyes fell down again but you could feel him staring at you, waiting for something more. « Alright, » you said, pulling your hair back. « Euh... drive safe. » He stood better, taking a step back.
« Hey, euh... Do you wanna go out sometime ? »
« Sure, when Marc- »
« No, no, » he shook his head quickly. « Go out like... just us. Properly. Like on a date. » You raised your brows in surprise and he shrugged. You just stared at each other for a moment, one unable to believe what he had just said, the other unable to believe what she had just heard.
« Okay... But no flowers. »
« Okay, got it, » Tim said, moving back, biting his lips so he could stop himself from smiling. « Okay, bye. »
« Drive safe. »
i’ll always be here ༊*·˚
m.list ◦ askbox
synopsis: in which you find out that you are pregnant
You pulled back up your underwear and sat down at the toilet lid. There wasn’t an ounce of laziness or indolence in the way you hunched with your gaze low, pinned on the test.
A great silence filled the air but it rang loud enough to cover the sound of your breathing and the beat of your heart. Or maybe all your senses halted and you just stayed there frozen, detached from your own body.
Your leg seemed unable to stay in place, jumping mechanically up and down, tensed, full of anticipation. You pulled your hair back and held it to your nape, unconsciously scratching your skin, digging with your nails red holes.
Timothée touched your knee in understanding, hopelessly trying to console both of you.
He was sitting on the tiled floor, legs crossed, the skin of his stomach crumpled, seemingly apathetic, but in reality, he could barely move. His mouth agape was letting the air slide in, tongue pressed hard against his teeth.
There was nothing apathetic in his persistent stare that was fixed on you, eyes glimmering with a feverish spark, trying to catch some sort of reaction.
Devoted, he observed your expression forming; the way you blinked, the spasms of your eyelids, the way your eyebrows raised and your lips twitched. And then, when your eyes met his, he could suddenly feel his heart pounding so hard that it hurt his chest. His hand pushed the thumping back inside his body and he got on his feet.
« What ? What does it say ? »
You tasked him with your gaze and then extended the test, which he took a bit hesitant given your expression.
In utter surprise but at the same time in a state of consciousness. He knew. However, nothing could have ever prepared him for that moment.
He covered his mouth with his palm and breathed deeply as if to swallow all the air in the room. His jaw clenched and he had to blink, the overdose of oxygen draining his eyes into a strange shade of green. He exchanged a look between you and the test.
You were staring at him, body stiff from stillness, not really in your vicinity, your space, shocked. And the more he remained silent, the more you stared. You wanted to say something, but your throat ran dry.
His pupils retracted, sagging in helplessness and anticipation. A small wet drop swam the curve of his face and remained stuck on his chin. He turned at you and you breathed out relieved at the muffled sound of his chuckle.
« Shit, I’m going to be a dad. » You nodded slowly, unable to speak, a wide smile stretched on your lips. Tim breathed out, fingers wandering mindlessly over his hair. « I’m going to be a dad, » he pointed to himself. « We’re going to have a kid. »
« We’re going to be parents. »
« We’re going to be parents, » he repeated your words in disbelief, trying to digest it. « Shit, we’re going to be parents ! », his voice came out louder and he wrapped his arms around your body asphyxiatingly tight.
Your breaths caught in your throat, the closeness and warmth his body radiated making you feel dizzy and bringing tears to your eyes. You both laughed overflooded by an incomparable feeling of the purest joy. His heart was about to burst out of his chest, you could feel it pounding against you.
Tim pulled you back, his hair in total disarray and face reddened with a frantic glow. His eyes wet, glimmering surreally bright, wandered all around your face as he breathlessly cupped your cheeks into his hands, silver trails slipping from between his fingers. He brushed your hair back, as thumb wiped off those wet marks, trying to gather your tears, but simultaneously calm himself.
Your fingers slid around his wrist to make him stop and look at you. You smiled at the view of his face.
« You’re crying ? »
« Look who’s talking, » he sniffled and breathed out a laugh.
« Are you happy ? »
« Happy ? », his eyes widened as if what your question was ridiculous, which it was. « I’ve never loved anyone like I love you right now, » Tim leaned down and pressed his lips on your hand.
« I can’t believe it. »
« We’re going to be a family, » he said, his eyes swelling with happiness. « Fuck, I’m going to be a dad ! » You bit your lips to stop yourself from grinning. Timothée walked around the room, your stare following his every move. « I’m going to be a dad ! », he came to you and hugged you again. You almost lost your balance at his force and ended up in laughter. Tim wrapped his arms around you tight, not letting you escape, not for one second.
And when he did, he held both your hands in his and slipped his fingers around yours, like you were kids on your first day of school, relying on one another, seeking safety and comfort.
« Have you ever thought about it ? Us, having a kid. » You nodded.
« You ? » He grinned widely and pressed his eyes shut, a bit embarrassed.
« Yes. »
« Yes ? »
« You’re surprised ? »
« I don’t know... » He gave you a gentle smile. You noticed the way his stare moved down, hands slowly circling the sensitive skin of your belly. « I just never thought you wanted it with me. » His smile weakened and he reverted his eyes to you, unable to believe that these words were coming out of your mouth.
« I wouldn’t want this with anyone but you, » his voice came out soft and he looked at you, waiting for a response similar to his.
« Why ? »
« Why ? », his hands slowly slid off your belly and held your face. His eyes never narrowed or left yours. « Because I love you. »
« You love me, but will you stay ? »
« Where else would I go ? » You shrugged.
« Promise me that you will always be here. »
« I’ll always be here. »