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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Who's got the last laugh now?
Chris smirks.
He places the blue haired girl out of the way, placing her in one of the spare bedrooms. It only took an hour but she passed out. With what he had placed in the drink in which was what not planned for her, but fuck if it didn't work out perfectly.
His attentions are back on Circe as he unlocks the door to the basement. Slamming the door behind him startling her awake. She sits up and scoots back across the bed. Her eyes filled wide with horror at the way his jaw is clenched. His normal kind eyes aren't as kind. Anger fill them.
He smirks at the woman, pacing the floor as she sits on the bed. Fear all over her right down to the way she is shaking. Tears falling down her hollow cheeks now. Her hands clutched around her legs as she hides the best she can.
"Oh baby."
He speaks.
The tone is not something she likes.
Or can pretend too.
He isn't stopping his movements. He didn't even look at her with the sentiment this time. He is just pacing the floor like he hasn't even said anything. It's silent but the thud of his platform boots.
"You know, your friends are a fucking pain in my ass."
He chuckles.
"Ocean more or so."
He stops, his head turning to her.
His eyes undressing her. The black lace nightgown on her still. He couldn't help but to leave it on her. He loves the way she looks in it. It makes him feel good. He couldn't just take it off of her. After all, he would have to remember her somehow.
"Hannah and Lynn, i like them. They stick to their own business."
His hands find their way to the front of his body from where he had them behind his back. Something Circe had noticed he does when nervous.
Although now that she is starting at him, she can't exactly tell what's going on. If it was ever a nervous tactic. The way he is staring at her. It's making her feel ten times as worse. Her heart is pounding in her chest. Her breathing is getting worse, on the verge of a panic attack.
She hadn't had one in years and it's all she can do is to count to ten, find a center. With Chris circling the room the way he is, his eyes on her like some twisted fucking thing. She can't. She is struggling.
He is at her bedside, his hand tangling in her hair as she snaps her head up to look at him. A whimper escaping past her lips, her bright colored eyes filled with fear.
