FILM NOIR [CHRIS MOTIONLESS] [✔️]

twelve; sinematic

twelve; cinematic

sinematic {motionless in white}

"...the wall that i have built to keep you out is starting to rust, because everything around me just reminds me of us..."

~~~

It had been two weeks since she'd last heard from Chris, and Spencer was an absolute fucking mess.

She'd drawn him at least five times, cried in Jamie's bed, slept in Jamie's bed, and listened to Morrissey sing about how badly he wanted to die.

Me too, Spencer thought miserably.

Scrolling through Instagram only brought more heartbreak, because of the band's instagram doing routine tour updates. She'd tried, but just couldn't bring herself to hit unfollow. She tried so hard to preserve the smell of him in his hoodies that she still had, but now all they were were covered in mascara stains and wet marks from fresh tears.

She had barely slept at all in days, waking over and over from dreams of their fight.

The amount of texts she'd written and then deleted just kept growing.

I miss you

Call me

I hope you're doing okay

Can we talk?

I'm sorry

I love you

She didn't even care that they'd been fighting, much less what it was about. All she wanted was her Chris back, the one with the gentle eyes and soft voice, the one with the safe arms and beautiful laugh. Not the one with a razor sharp voice, not the one who's insults cut deep.

From where she was, burrowed deep in her bed and Chris's shirt, in the other room she heard Jamie on the phone.

"It's like someone died," She was saying. "I can't even get her out of bed."

Silence.

"He what?!" The shock was raw in her voice, and Spencer strained to hear. "Wow, babe, that's insane. I've never seen him cry for anything, not even when his dog died."

Chris had cried? Spencer was floored, and very upset. He was a mess, and it was her fault.

"I gotta fix this," She whimpered. "I can't lose him."

Opening her laptop, she looked up the next date for MIW's tour.

They were four states away...in fucking Iowa.

"Oh, goddammit." Spencer hissed, pressing her palms into her eyes. As much as she didn't want to go out, she would brave her old hometown to get him back. Within ten minutes, the plane ticket was booked, and Spencer's mind was made up.

She was going to get Chris back, or die trying.

She picked up her phone, dialing a contact.

"Ghost, it's me," She said. "I need your help."