chris didn't talk to you for over a week. at first, you were too busy with your classes and the material you had to catch up on to notice it, but eventually the fact that he wasn't texting you back at all started to weigh on you. the feeling of not knowing why made you anxious, catching yourself at thinking that maybe he had his own 'stuff' to take care of, but it wasn't a problem for him before. so something was going on.

the feeling of being ignored never bothered you much, usually if someone did that to you your response was simple— you did the same. you didn't care at all, not going to waste your time on someone who didn't want to talk to you.

so why did you feel like this now?

after a few more ignored messages again, you decide to take matters into your own hands and that's how you found yourself at the frat house, entering chris's room, which turned out to be empty. you sigh, deciding to just wait until he comes back from wherever he is.

you look around his room, rolling your eyes at the empty pepsi cans and clothes laying all over the place, which you decide to pick up with the intention of organizing them just at least a little bit. but something caught your eye, a ghostface mask?

You'd pick it up, examining it, I noticed dried blood splattered on it. "What the fu-.."

the door opens and your eyes fall on chris. shirtless, sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips, a bag of chips in his hand as he stuffs a handful into his mouth, slamming the door shut with his foot.

You quickly put the mask down, pressing your back to his desk, hiding it. Leaning on your hands.

"The fuck you doin in here?"