Consequences Part 2
RPF
Warnings: Talk of Cheating, STD, Language, Angst,
Parings: Timothee Chalamet x Reader
Word Count: 1,244
Two weeks was how long you had to wait for the test results to come in. Timothee and you both got tested for every other STD it was possible to get tested for safe measures. He’d only known the extra for several days before he’d slept with her. Not long to know where and who someone had been with.
Your home was cold the last few weeks. Timothee had been staying in the guest room. You didn't talk to one another aside from one or two words here and there. You could hardly look at him. All of the feeling and rage that you thought you’d pushed aside when you found out he cheated was filling you now. Yes, when you found out he cheated you cried and was pissed. But those feelings quickly faded when you saw how much his actions were eating him alive. You saw that it really was a mistake and he learned from it. You had no doubt that he would never do that again.
Now you were enraged that he could even think of cheating, even if he was drunk. You were betrayed and so hurt. And now, you are terrified of having this disease. This constant reminder of someone else’s careless actions. Someone who was supposed to love, take care of you, keep you safe.
You both sat in the doctor’s office in front of the desk, waiting for him to come into the room. Waiting, more waiting. Timothee’s leg bounced with anxiety. He fiddled with his fingers as he absentmindedly looked around the office. He was scared. But unlike all the other times you would hold him and assure him it would be okay, you didn’t. Because you didn’t know. You weren’t even sure you were going to stay with him after this. Deep down he knew that, too.
The door opened, making both of you jump as the doctor walked in. “Good morning.” The doctor said cheerfully. It made you roll your eyes. “I have both your test results here.” He said placing two folders on his desk. He looked up at the two of you. “Are you sure you want to do this together? Normally we do this separately.”
“We’re sure.” Timothee answered, rubbing the palms of his hands nervously on his jean clad knees.
“Alright then,” He opens the file. “We’ll start off with Ms. Y/L/N.” He looks over the paper in his hand. You’re holding on to your bag tightly, heart racing. “All of your STD panels came back negative.” You and Timothee both exhale in relief as the doctor’s eyes scan the page. “No HIV or anything like that.” He looks up at you. “You are a little anemic so I would make sure you get more iron in you. You can get over the counter supplements.”
You nod your head. “Okay.” You take another breath. “Is that all?”
“Yeah. You are a very healthy young lady.” He placed the paper into the folder and grabs Timothee’s. “Now Mr. Chalamet.” He lifts the page out of the manilla folder. “Your STD panel came back inconclusive.”
“Inconclusive? What does that mean?” You ask before Timothee can open his mouth.
“Most of your results came back negative.” The doctor explains. “But Your HIV results aren’t clear.”
You reach over, taking Timothee’s hand, entwining your fingers. He squeezed you hand with both of his. “So, what do we do?” You ask, looking at the doctor.
“We will do another blood draw. Retest.” The doctor looks at Timothee. “I’ll be honest with you,” His hand tightens around yours. “You have some abnormalities with your white blood cell count. Have you been sick lately?”
Timothee shakes his head. “Just tired. With my work, I-I-”
“You could just be overworked.” The doctor looks over the page again. “I don’t want to take any chances. We will do another blood draw and run a few other tests.” The doctor closes the folder. “Do you have any questions?”
Timothee swallows hard and looks at you then back to the doctor. “Can you not sugar coat it?” He says finding his voice. “What are the odds I'm infected?”
The doctor takes a breath, removing his glasses. “It is harder for a woman to give it to a man, but you admit to not using protection. All it takes is one time.” He exhales again. “But your white blood cell count shows something is going on. The results do align with being infected, yes.” You felt Timothee go rigid. “Even though you haven’t passed it to Y/N doesn’t mean you are in the clear. But these results can mean a dozen other things as well. Is it probable because you were exposed, yes. Is it 100% positive, no.”
“When does he get retested?” You ask.
“Right now.” The doctor stands. “Follow me and I’ll show you to the lab.”
You hold his hand as you follow the doctor and watch him squint when the nurse sticks the needle into his arm. You drive back to the apartment, Timothee showing no sign of emotions the entire drive. He doesn’t talk or even look your way. He doesn’t comment about your results or even look away from the car window.
When you got home, he walked into the apartment and straight to the guest room. You followed him, opening the bedroom door. He was laying in the bed, back to the door. You didn’t say anything. You crawled into the bed behind him and wrapped your arms around him. The moment you embraced him he broke. The tears fell down his face as he sobbed hysterically. You didn’t say a thing, just held him. Timothee cried until he had nothing left in him. No tears, no energy to let his body be wracked with his own fear and self-loathing.
When he finally calmed, he just laid there with no emotion on his face. You still stayed silent. You just let him know you were still there by holding him tight, as close as you could.
The room had been quiet for a long time, you thought he’d fallen asleep. You were surprised when you heard his voice groggily speak. “I’m sorry.” He says, barely audible. “I’m sorry I fucked everything up.” He turns in your arms and his eyes are puffy and red. He looks exhausted. You fight the tears that you know he can see fill your eyes. “We were supposed to be together forever. Just you and me. We were supposed to have a family and grow old in the city.” He begins to cry again. “I messed it all up and I am so fucking sorry.”
You pull him till your foreheads meet. “Shh.” You whisper. “Stop it.” You wipe away his tears. “You’re not alone.” I pull him close, tucking his head beneath my chin. “I’m here, with you.” You kiss the top of his head. “I’m not going anywhere.” You feel him hold you tighter.
You could feel the fear pulsing through him. Before you were ready to leave Timothee, to let him and his cheating self, deal with the consequences of his action on his own, all alone. Which was how you felt when he first cheated. Alone.
In your arms now were the broken pieces of the love of your life. And there was no way in hell you were going to leave him alone. No matter what.
Part 3
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