𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘚𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦
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Based off the song Saccaharine by Jazmin Bean. As well as loosely based off the show You.
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cover made by : @brvket...
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Chris watches from his car through the open window. He follows the raven haired girl as she tosses her keys down to the table by the front door. A frustrated expression on her face as she reaches into the small bag, checking her phone, rolling her eyes before answering the device, and bringing it to her ear.
She's pacing the floor. Her phone pressed between her ear and shoulder as she reaches the back of her dress to push the zipper down. It sliding down her body as soon as it's no longer clinging right. Chris hums from his car, his hand moving to loosen his tie. It suddenly choking him.
It suddenly way too hot in this car of his to even remotely have on a tie.
He can see her lips moving, her brows furrowed as she continues moving about the room. Removing each article of clothing before stopping in front of the window. Her phone being set down on the dresser in front of it. Her hands running through the once perfect curls to put it up in a pony tail. A few strand falling from it as she opens the dresser.
He can see her, picture perfect in all she is with nothing on. He just can't quite make out the words she is saying. Just her facial expressions.
They speak enough that he can tell the red headed bombshell is frustrated and upset. Angry even as she stands at the dresser rummaging through her dresser drawers.
She halts her movements, he can see her take a deep breath in and her head turning to the door before the window. An eyebrow raised as she looks down to her phone, her mouth moving again. The once frustrated expression changing to a more questionable one.
Maybe sad?
He isn't so sure.
He can see her lips move before she brings the phone up, he can only assume to hang up before tossing to the bed. Her hands going to her head and her eyes closing. Her nude chest sucking in a breath of air before exhaling. Her hands going back to the dresser to grab a large worn out t shirt.
Only to smirk when it's on and he can see the band that takes over it.
The Misfits.
Circe slips into her bed, her small fingers grabbing the laptop that rests on her bed. Chris looks down to his arm, remembering the way her fingers traced the outline of his tattoos right down to his chest. Outlining the tattoos that show through his shirt, the way her eyes looked into his.
He can still feel the chills as they took over his skin. He can feel them now as they creep their way back in. The way his heart beats for her even when she is not near him.
The way he feels alone.
It's the sound of the car that shifts him out of that place. The loud hipster music that takes over. The loud dubstep music that is overwhelmingly annoying. Some he can handle, it's not his favorite but it's the way it sounds. The way his head can't handle it. The immediate migraine that takes over.
