#gutspilt

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑  𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐄  ( + 𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐍 ) .   for  @gutspilt .                  +  bonus:

   “ YOU’RE INFURIATING SOMETIMES ! “ 

     “ BUT YOU STILL LOVE ME? “

      “ OF COURSE I DO.  “

RANDOM CASSANDRA && SPENCER EDITS  !   /    (   1/?   )

𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 🌻 + 𝐚 𝐮𝐫𝐥 & 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 .➥  acceptingfor @gutspilt​ .

    ━━ &  @gutspilt *   MEME   /   ACCEPTING

WHAT      A      FUCKING      MESS                  literally      .   clothes   soaked   with   blood   ,   the   floor   somehow   even   worse   ,   the   only   thing   they   could   do   was      wait      .   wait   for   a   miracle   ,   wait   for   it   to      s t o p      ,   wait   for      SOMEONE      to   show   up      &&      do      SOMETHING      .   hope   as   he   might   ,   deep   down   eric   wasn’t   expecting   a   happy   ending                  &&      judging   by   spencer’s   words   ,   he   was   on   the   same   page   .

a   laugh   filled   with      genuine   humor      ,   not   even   a   trace   of   bitterness   or   fear   .   eric   hadn’t   thought   about   it   in   those   terms  ,   but   the   other   was      RIGHT                  both   of   them   were   ,   quite   possibly   ,   exactly   where   they   were   meant   to   be   .   that      ONE      BIG      BULLET      they’d   both   dodged   finally   coming   back   to   finish   the   job   .   it   was   fair   .      it   was   fate      .   

she’s seen sharpening her knife on a wet rock ,  her movements are almost mechanical.  doing so was only taking her mind off of things ,  these things were reoccurring during this time of year.  and although it’s been years since her parents died ,  mia still reels from that reality.  never fully coming to terms with it   …   and how could she  ?  when her parents died she was only a kid and on top of that ,  she witnessed it.  an event so traumatic that sometimes any LOUD noise could trigger flashbacks.  which is hard to control during these times when violence surrounds you the firing of guns or the loud crack of opening up someone’s skull   (   or the dead’s ,   )   was an easy trigger.  there isn’t much of reaction when spencer sits down with her ,  again she’s like a machine when he’s focused on something.  no response ,  nothing said   …   just movement.  he was just like everyone else who has tried talking with her during the last two weeks.  she knows she gives off this energy ,  it’s kind of hard when you’re feeling such intense sadness and anger.  most stayed AWAY from mia , other’s tried to help.  

she can feel is eyes set on her as he speaks.  it wasn’t the first time that he’s asked about her state ,  offering to help her through what she’s going through.  but she was standing in quick sand and she had been sinking into the earth for some time now.  her head                 hovering just above water ,  there was no saving her.   “   you can’t ,   ”   she responds after a beat or two.  and at that moment she places the rock on her thigh as she runs her finger over the edge of her blade to test the sharpness  she sighs quietly and swallows hard ,  thinking about how UGLY the world has turned.  despite all the loneliness ,  the anger and saddness ,  she was somehow grateful her parents weren’t alive now.  god forbid they witnessed what was happening ,  trying to live day by day and how much of a STRUGGLE it was.  or even worse   …  her parents were suffering ,  or had gotten sick and thus turning into those things that now rule over the living.  she can’t imagine having to kill her parents   (   she often wonders if the dead could break out of their graves ,  she hopes they’re still resting peacefully.   )   but knows that killing a family member is something spencer had to go through.   lips pull downward into a frown and then her head turns to the side to give her attention to him.   “   i just hate this time of year.  always have since i was a kid   …   now it’s just ten times worse being alive and fighting to survive here.   ”   a pause ,   “   i hate it.   ”

        she’s not completely oblivious. the first one to take in the sight of the mistletoe above their heads, moon-gray eyes brimming with amusement. unbeknownst to him, of course. but she’s reaching up, tips of her fingers manage to brush the end of the christmas leaf, just enough movement to catch his attention. and once it is on her, it never fades away. 

        ❛    mistletoe.    ❜    she tells him, her voice is gentle and wispy, arms reach and twine around his shoulders. he’s a solid feel against her, and she’s pressing to him with an almost eager motion. soft and pliant frame, lips press tenderly to the corner of his.    ❛     it’s tradition.    ❜    when she kisses him fully, it’s fleeting, barely there, only for a moment. and then again. firmer, dragged out, delicate fingers trail from his shoulders and graze his nape. pulls him in, closer and closer.