Chris Motionless Imagines / One shots

Frustrated

A/N: Unedited. Angst. Also been crying today so there is this. The outcome or whatever.

Chris's grip tightens on you. His lips press a kiss to the top of your head. It's here he feels calm. The stress of the day and the booking of tours to replan fade away. It's here as he holds you that he realizes he is at his happiest and he wouldn't want the world if it didn't have you in it.

His favorite show blares in the background and despite you not liking it too much, you put up with it. You watch it cause it makes him happy that you even show interest in what he wants to watch or do. All the while supporting who he is and his likes.

Chris's phone goes off on the end table. The set ringtone for his record label. The soft features that show him at his comfort shift to frustration and annoyance. His arm unwraps from you, grabbing the phone and answering it before standing up to go into the kitchen. His tattoos on full display on his back.

"Do you want me to pause it baby?"

He swats a hand at you.

His way own way of answering it. Even with the answer, you're still unsure so you leave it playing. Reaching for your own phone and checking it.

"I need to reschedule theses dates as soon as possible."

Chris groans.

You can imagine the current reaction. His hand in his hair as he paces the kitchen floor. You don't even need to check, you know the man so well. Plus you can hear his slippers sliding across the floor.

"I understand we're at a difficult situation but we need these rescheduled."

Chris sighs.

"I know!"

He growls.

There is some mumbling. Chris pacing the floor and then there is yelling. The sound of something hitting the marbled counter and you jump at the sound.

"Yeah, i understand. Corona is ruining a lot but this is my livelihood. My job."

It's silent.

No movements. No words. All but the tv playing.

"Yeah, i'll keep trying. Yeah."

Something hits the marbled counter again. Another jump coming from you.

"Fuck."

Chris groans.

His hand in his hair as he makes his way back to the living room. His phone being left behind in the kitchen. His eyes dart to the television, a little frustrated even more now at the fact the tv still played. It wasn't even paused like he had given the answer too.
He darts to where you sit. Your knees brought to your chest and your eyes don't dare to find his.

You aren't scared of him. You never had been but it's his anger. His temper. You've seen it before. You just don't want to be at the end of it. You don't want to be the issue nor the problem. As he stares at you, you feel like you are now.

"You didn't pause it?"

Shaking your head no, the obvious answer.

His hand falls from his hair, a look of disbelief and disapproval cover his face.

"I answered you to pause it."

He breathes out.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know that's what you meant."

He scoffs and turns on his heels, "Then don't ask me next time if i want it paused."

It's the comment. The way he said it. You know he isn't mad at you. He isn't frustrated at you, but now he is taking it out on the wrong person.  It's not you. It's also not you to let someone get away with the way he is talking to you. He also won't be the first last one.