the necklace clinked against your collarbone as you adjusted your lines for the next scene. it was a small silver charm, a camera lens and tiny star, the one renee gave you before she flew out to atlanta for the pilot of her new series. she had slipped it into your palm at lax, her fingers lingering too long like she wanted to memorize your skin

“i know its dumb” she had whispered “but i figured if youre gonna fall asleep in trailers without me at least i can be close to your heartbeat”

that was three weeks ago

now every call sheet morning felt heavier. you woke up in hotel beds that still smelled like coffee and makeup remover but not like her. you powered through twelve hour shoots under led lights while thinking about how renees hair probably looked under georgia humidity or how her laugh might sound in between takes. even if her characters love interest got to touch her the way you did

you stared at your phone again between setups, she just texted

renee: wearing your shirt again. the gray one. my costar said it’s “artsy lesbian energy.” i said it’s “married to my wife” energy. he blushed.

you smiled full and aching. you sent a photo of you on set, holding her necklace between your fingers like a talisman

y/n: miss you like crazy. this summer’s a joke without you.

renee: bed bugs only bite the lonely right? baby ive got scars from wishing you could hold me

y/n: if i tell you i miss you one more time will you hop on a plane and crawl into bed with me after my 7AM call?

renee: if I wrap by midnight I’ll book the red eye. i don’t care if im sleepdead for press. I just want to fall asleep on your chest again.