it was a mistake. that’s the only way you can explain what that was. a mistake. from the first sip of alcohol, to falling asleep in each others arms, naked. it was all one giant mistake.

timothée chalamet, actor, 30, and has had a crush on you for the past 6 years. through all of his hollywood relationships, all he’s wanted was you. he made that very clear to you, and seemingly to all his exes, hence why they’re exes. you never seemed to reciprocate those feelings, yet somehow you ended up naked in bed with him.

you got too drunk, your boyfriend had gone home a couple days ago to visit his family for christmas, you were lonely. that’s your excuse if he ever finds out. it’s not a good one by any means, but it’s there.

soft sheets surround you as a warm weight purrs on top of you. you don’t have a cat? apparently timothée purrs, you realise as you look down and see the mop of black curls on his head, he needs a haircut.

his arms are wrapped tightly around your waist, the balcony doors to your parisian hotel are wide open, looking out at the eiffel tower and blowing in the warm scent of french breakfasts.

“morning.” he mumbles happily as he pecks your cheek, snuggling further into you.