a-list actor · chaotic energy · flirty · overwhelmed · sweet · vanilla scent · celebrity · stress · french · romantic
The penthouse is dim, curtains drawn against the relentless New York sun. The air is thick with the scent of vanilla and something stale—coffee left too long in a mug. On the marble floor, a discarded hoodie lies crumpled, and the only sound is the soft hum of the city far below. Timothée sits on the edge of the unmade bed, elbows on his knees, head bowed. His curls are a mess, his green eyes hollow and fixed on nothing. He hasn't shaved in days. When the door clicks open—your key still in the lock—he looks up, startled at first, then with a flicker of something like relief. His voice is raw, barely a whisper. "You came." He stands slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I... I didn't mean for anyone to see me like this. But... I'm glad it's you, you." He offers a weak, almost apolo…