Waiting for Sal, you were pacing around the kitchen, giving the paint brushes a deadly look. Making sure they are all in formation, ready to fix any out of line. Maybe with a hard look, they'll stay right in place. You took a deep breath in.
This is ridiculous. It is just a hangout. No need to measure the angle of the brushes internally, losing your cool at the one on the far right. No need to smooth out the bubbles in the paper, desperately trying to rub out the crinkles that formed. Sal would never notice that, nor point it out. Yet, you couldn't help it. You were too deep in now to hear Sal coming from behind.
"Do you need any help?" A soft voice called out towards you cautiously. He stopped before you, intentionally leaving some room for space. His damp hair sat in front of his eyes, with Sal trying to blow it out of his face before realizing his mistake. He had his prosthetic on, duh. A giggle escaped you, releasing some tension that had built up in your shoulders.
He averted, a slight blush reaching up his ears. Your arm reached towards Sal. "Come here." The blue-nette shifted in your direction. In one swift motion, your hand glided against the smooth plastic, moving his hair out of the way. You could feel the dead ends between your fingertips as quickly as you left, being met with his eyes.
You have always thought his eyes were beautiful, the only thing you could see beneath the mask. The swirls of blues and greens around his dilated pupils. It had always put you in a trance, an enchantment you couldn't seem to break out of. Calming you down, even just slightly. One even he couldn't control, staring right back into yours.
The smell of your soap filled the air, the soft linger of your shampoo at your fingertips. All of you, mixed with him. Being this close, there are a lot of details you haven't been able to admire, at least without looking away first.
The small mole under his prosthetic eye, just like the ones leading up his neck. How jealous you were of his longer eyelashes, despite the lack of proper care. The slight cracks of his skin underneath, if you looked just close enough. If you were this close.
You are this close, and he isn't doing anything about it. He doesn't look like he will be any time soon. A rough surface rubbed against your hand. Looking down, it was his.
Close enough to feel it, insinuate something, yet always just far enough to give you distance. A way out in case you didn't want to. You intertwined your fingers with his own. Why would you want to go anywhere?
Weirdly, the difference between your hands is comforting. His larger, calloused hands soothing you down from whatever high you found yourself in. With his subconscious decision to rub his thumb into your palm, a shaky chuckle comes from him. Then, a small voice.
"Uhm." His strong stare had now averted away from you, staring at the floor. "Gosh uh..jeez." Another shaky laugh, weaker this time. A twitch in your hand, suppressed by a squeeze. "Are you…alright?" No response came from him, but a small shake of the head, not daring to meet your gaze.
You didn't want to push, but you were worried. The sudden change in his behavior from the elevator to the shower has all been so sudden. What is he thinking? Have you done something? The worst thought: He knows, and he is extremely uncomfortable being around you.
Sal let out a deep exhale. "Listen." He started, gulping. "I don't—uhm—god this is so awkward." You squeezed his hand again. "Take the time you need." Your voice cracked; you hope he didn't notice. Sweat creeping down the back of your neck, building up in your hands. Though he avoided your eyes, you didn't exit his.
It seemed like Sal was fighting himself, starting a sentence, only to shut it down himself and go back into his soft rambles you couldn't make out. All you could imagine was what he was trying to say. Every potential negative outcome. You couldn't take it anymore.
"Sal, look." You started, prompting him to look your way. He didn't bite, but he turned ever so slightly. "I know what you are trying to say..and I—."
BANG, BANG, BANG.
Both of you stopped dead in your tracks, a chill making its way down your spine. Who the hell could that be? Not your parents, they have the key. Larry? No, he would walk right in. Staring at the door, all the possibilities ran through your mind. Sals squeezed your hand, bringing you back down to Earth. A whisper came from him, "I'll go check." Before you could shake your head no, he already walked away, creeping his head through the doorway. A voice came from outside.
You didn't dare come close to the door; you watched Sal from the kitchen, his back relaxed as he started a conversation with the person outside. A short one before he reached his hand out, pulling an item into your apartment. A letter of sorts, shutting the door behind him. Staring at each other, he finally approached you again and placed the letter on the counter.
"It was the mailman," Sal stated, shifting slightly in place. "He said this letter had quite the urgency." Though he laughed, something felt off. Missing. Sliding the letter across the counter, you opened it and read it.
It was from Ash! An update on her vacation. "Sal, come read this!" Hopefully, this should clear the air. Guiding the letter in between you, your eyes scanned over the note:
"Hey!! I hope everything is going well over there. I miss you guys so much :(!! (A huge sad face drawn in red ink, with big exclamation marks that took up the rest of the line.) Hopefully, you aren't having too much fun without me. Seriously, I will beat you up if I find out you guys did something cool."
You shared a laugh, averting your eyes slightly towards him. You felt the blood rush to your face. Brushing it off, you gained your attention on the letter once more.
"It has been SOOOOOO boring over here!! The same old crap every day: Walking around, dealing with my family, wishing I was back home. I don't even wish this on TRAVIS, and that says a lot."
Now that sounded so much like her. Your giggle was louder than intended, bouncing off the apartment walls. Embarrassed, you covered your mouth with your hand. You couldn't help but look toward Sal, watching his reaction. He only smiled, examining the rest of the letter.
"Anywaysssss…I come back in a few days by the time this letter should reach you guys! I am SO excited. We have SO much catching up to do!! -Love, Ash <3".
You had folded the letter back up and sealed it into the envelope, making sure the millions of stickers she used to decorate the envelope didn't get ruined. You turned toward Sal, but he had already been looking at you, fiddling with his fingers.
"I'm glad to finally hear back from Ash." You announced, beaming as your eyes moved down his body. His pocket. It looked like it had gotten bigger, like an item inside. Had he been carrying something this whole time?
"Me too!" Sal exclaims, though hesitant, rubbing his palm over his pocket, placing it there. Maybe there always was. No, there is no way.
"I miss her." You sighed. That was the truth. "Larry, too, the whole gang. I mean, they've all been gone for a bit." Sal said nothing in reply, not even a nod.
Just a silent agreement, at least, you think so. After a moment, Sal finally mentioned, "I mean, she'll be back soon. So does Larry. So, that's good." His fingers started fidgeting again. That didn't sound like the truth. Nothing near it. What in the world is up with him?
You sat there for a long time. It felt like hours, with the awkwardness of before, and now your racing thoughts on what Sal could be hiding from you. Somebody had to get you out of this situation, and it clearly wasn't going to be him. "So…." You start. This doesn't sound good at all. "I have uh, painting stuff if you'd like?" Your voice cracked. Why would you say it like that? God, you sound so awkward.
"Uh, sure!" That wasn't genuine at all. He's just trying to cover it up. He doesn't want to be here. He probably wants to go home. "That sounds like a lot of fun."
Hesitating, you walked over to the counter and grabbed the canvases you had saved. They had been for sale, saving your wallet some life left. You gave Sal the canvas, walking toward the other side of the counter. "Why are you sitting over there?" He questioned, moving slightly over for some room next to him, patting at the seat. This will be fun.
"Well…" You started, twirling the paintbrush in between your fingers. "Why not make it a competition?" A laugh escaped Sals' lips. "A competition." He said laconically, pretending to roll his eyes, "I don't know. I think you'd get upset."
A gasp came from you, your eyes wide. "And why would I get upset, Sal Fisher?" You leaned in with every word, palms flat onto the counter. He followed your lead, matching your energy as he leaned in to whisper, "Because you'd lose."
All the tenants of the building could hear the screams coming from your apartment. The rough footsteps as you chased Sal around the confined space, jumping across furniture to avoid you, with the hard SLAMS as you inevitably ran into things. Regardless of the bumps and scratches tomorrow, you didn't stop. "I'M GOING TO GET YOU SAL!!" Screaming as though you were miles apart, panting, trying to catch up. He always just had to be quicker. "I don't think sooo!"
Running down the hallway, Sal had made a small miscalculation. The rug. Pushing with full force, the rug underneath him slid, making Sal fall back-first. It was a loud thud. Hopefully, you won't get noise complaints. "Sal? Are you ok??" You dropped your paintbrush, hurrying over on your knees. He seemed fine, but no response. You put your hands on him, shaking him slightly. "Sal?" You repeated. Nothing. Worry filled you. Did he knock himself out?
You should have known better, but you never learn from your mistakes. Before you could react, he reached his arm over, grabbing the paintbrush you dropped behind him. A cheeky smile formed on his face. He won. Again. As much as you wanted to be annoyed, you laughed. At least he was ok. You weren't sure what he would do if he truly knocked himself out.
"Come onnnn.." You rolled your eyes, pretending to be mad, and walked away. You could never be mad at him. "Let's just paint, yeah?"
The floor beneath you sank a little as Sals weight shifted, getting back onto his feet. A chuckle was heard behind you. "Yeah, sure. But I still think you are going to lose."
Meet Me At Wendigo Lake - Chapter 6 - Back on Track
Sal's finger reluctantly moved off the button, officially giving up on Larry's support. His finger slid towards the sides of the radio, soothing, as the rough texture danced along his thumb. However, from their adventures, some parts of it were severely chipped due to Larry dropping the radio. Though he denies it, Sal's finger would have a stern talk with him as a shard of plastic poked him. His finger jolted up in shock, the radio falling onto the carpet. He'd need to mention it to both Larry and Todd; hopefully, a cover could be made to cover those parts. Or at least, a new radio. Given the frequency with which Larry has dropped it, the audio sometimes cuts out, which is anything but helpful.
The radio, however, this time finally seemed to be on his side. Every word Larry said came out clear; no way to deny the messages he had heard. All of the claims ran through Sally's mind, all with a weight seeming heavier than the last. You like him. Sal is worthy of you. The beautiful, intelligent angel you are, liking him. Sal, a boy with a prosthetic, isn't a freak. Worthy, lovable enough for you. You like him, despite everything. His throat tightened, sweat filling his hands. You... like him. Just as he likes you. Sal bit his lips, failing to stop the smile forming.
Within his mind, it was like the boxing game Larry and Sal play religiously. Down in Larry's bedroom, the room was pitch black, with only the TV illuminating the scene around them. Clothes scattered, a pizza now cold, ordered from hours ago, their typical Friday 'bro's night.' With Todd and Chug canceling at the last minute, it was only Sal and Larry, giving the silent nod. There was only one game they knew they had to play. Loading up the game, the TV broke its silence: "Duper Punch Out!" A long, intense session awaited them.
In the game, Larry's confirmation and encouragement stood in one corner, the light shining perfectly onto him. His blue, pixel gloves were adjusted, tightened around his hands. In the game, he was still in the same clothing he normally wears, a bad situation all around for him. With his tight dark blue jeans, raggedy Sanity falls shirt, he was sure to lose. Yet, he stood tall, moving into fighting position, finding his eyes on Sals. The intense stare-down between the two told more than punches ever could.
Larry's voice was genuine, soothing; he would never lie to him about something like this. Not with how much he knows about his feelings. The nights Sal would spend lying on his side, trying to stifle his tears as he cried into the radio, looking for the comfort of one of his best friends. The moments were when Sal would admire you from far away, staying at Larry's side, as if he got too close, you would magically fade away. Find him weird, gross. That was the same voice in the corner opposite Larry, returning the same glare.
FIGHT!
The announcer's voice ran, the yellow pixilated words perfectly framed into his mind. Once they faded, his fingertips no longer felt the fabric of the clothing, but the imaginary crusted controller Larry would have given him, and his hands gripped around it.
Sal was sure he would win. After all, usually Larry gets distracted or misses an open opportunity that Sal notices. Watches, waiting for Larry to slip up as he makes a sly comment of: "You'll lose! Just watch Sally boy." Those small, tiny moments give all the boost he needs.
However, Sally's gloves only seemed to flatter with every word of encouragement Larry gave. "You aren't a freak." A missed punch. His mind races; of course, he was. Right? "They like you." His foot slips, giving Larry an open opportunity to punch his mask. It cracks.
"You are worthy."
The mask shatters, pieces shattering across the ring around him.
He is...right.
The incessant voices in his head, his player, had faded away. Watching as his players' pixels fade away, crumbling onto the ground in a dramatic scene, KO had popped onto the screen. Sal waited for Larry's victory laugh, running around his room as he heard "I WIN, I WIN!!" The carpet squishes against his feet, turning around to circle Sal, bringing a small chuckle out of the blue-haired boy.
Yet, he felt a soft hand on his shoulder, reaching down to rub his back. Comforting him. Sal dropped the controller, turning his body towards Larry. A small smile was on his face, his hair being blown away from his face by the brunette.
"It's ok, Sal. Let yourself have this one." A voice sounding like Larry's, staring at him in his imagination, but yet, somebody else was there. Somebody very familiar, from all those years ago.
His mind snapped out of his imagination, taking him aback mentally by a few steps. Larry was right. He does worry too much. It's become a habit that he doesn't register just how much he truly does it. A comfortable habit, not one anyone should have. He hopes you don't possess it or ever come across it. Or even him passing it onto you, the thought of it makes him grip tighter onto the fabric in his hands—the fabric of the clothes he is supposed to be giving you.
..the clothes.
Without thinking, Sal's feet started to move, the carpet below him trying to stop him. Almost as if to think just a bit longer, stay in the comfort of not knowing. Only thinking of what he has 'known', being a freak. Not lovable, likeable. Not anything, other than the mask. It talks to him, taunting him. A freak show. Ugly. Lifting his feet, the carpet's grip lost touch with him, starting to run.
He couldn't let it stop him anymore. No—he couldn't let it. Not when his heart was this heavy. His mind was finally soothed.
You finally felt clean. Watching the water pass by, it had finally turned clear, soothing your mind as you reached for the metal knob, fighting to turn the water off. Every time, you swear the knob will break off as a small 'erh!' comes from it, carefully pulling away. Luckily, the shower had remained intact: though, if it hadn't, maybe you might receive a hot water shower.
Considering breaking the shower, reality faced that no matter what, you won't get more than 5 minutes of a hot shower in the Addison Apartments. Wrapping the white towel around you, you realized that it probably wasn't the smartest idea of a towel color, considering the order of events. However, with no trails of brown or anything concerning, a sigh of relief came. All you had to do was wait for your clothes.
Two minutes later, a small knock had arrived at your door, a muffled voice coming from the other side. "Uh, I got your clothes! I'm not sure if you want me to leave them out here or—". You could hear the words bubbling in his throat; nervousness took over Sal once again. It was cute.
"You can just leave them outside, thank you." You didn't want Sal to see how you were, either. Your face was flushed, the last of your words cracked. You hoped he didn't pick it up from the other side of the door. You didn't think he did, as his footsteps turned around, fading away into the background. Yet, he is not the type to say it out loud, so it will forever remain a secret.
Throughout your shower, you were trying to get it together. The cold water should have helped collect your thoughts, bring your mind to a state of 'zen', yet the elevator scene only continued to play. It felt as if his hands were on you still, no matter how hard you scrubbed. Around your waist, sides, crawling up until the very moment the elevator had rung, the door opened for his escape. Why did he walk out so quickly? What even possessed him to act like that in the first place? As much as you wanted to question it, the fluttering of your heart quickly reached your brain, pushing all sense out. His voice replaced it. Sals' accent was stronger than ever, with how close you were, hearing every a to an "aw", and his softer r's. Normally, it makes you laugh, but your heartstrings only tugged tighter. You had liked it. You like him. And even though this may be worse, you wanted it to happen again.
Opening the door slightly, making sure to only reach your arm outwards, your hand found your clothes sitting on top of a chair that Sal had put outside for you, making it easy access. He has always been so considerate like that. Making sure everything is easy for you, with no worries in the world other than making you happy. Ash says that's all he strives for, being your 'white knight in shining armor' so to speak, you couldn't let her get in your head. Not when he is outside your door. In your apartment. Alone.
Snatching the clothes from the chair, you put them on, making eye contact in the mirror. Due to you and Sal being close to the same height, his clothes fit you quite nicely. He had picked out black sweatpants with a white t-shirt, typical Sal style. Though basic, it was quite comfortable. Doing a small twirl, you quietly laughed to yourself before reaching for the door. Stepping out of the bathroom, you found Sal sitting alone at the kitchen table, tapping his fingers to a similar beat of a Sanity Falls song, thanks to Larry. With the door 'click', Sals' head quickly turned toward the direction of the sound, finding you.
Though Sals' prosthetic block his facial reactions, his eyes tell you everything. From whatever trance he had found himself in, his pupils had dilated, eyeing you down-up before turning away, tapping his fingers in the same beat. "You look nice," Sal mentioned, stopping the tapping momentarily, something crossing his mind, before going back to his rhythm. "Thanks!" Pushing the floorboard underneath you with the tip of your foot, you had performed another spin, the creak making Sal stop and look again, with a small chuckle. The memory of the elevator flashed in your mind again. The awkwardness after it. Yet, he seems... good. More than okay. His once scrunched-up shoulders disappeared, but instead, he was really opening up towards you. Looking at you. You couldn't help but blush, a small chuckle leaving you before looking away, only a small glimpse of him in your corner view.
Clothes were folded onto the table in front of him, assumed to be for himself. You stand correct as he asked to go into your shower, pointing at himself. "I uh, got quite the adventure out of it." His laugh was louder than before, a small sigh coming after it. It was different, but you aren't complaining. Not at all. Your heart wouldn't let you. Permitting him, Sal made his way toward the shower, locking the door behind him.
You had looked over towards the clock. 12:30 PM. You have been out for the past couple of hours, the exhaustion finally hitting you. From all the running, laughing, your body hurts. Aching to lie on any soft surface, your body flopped like a rag doll onto the couch with a small "oof!". However, despite your wanting to rest, you knew you couldn't. Lying there face-first for what feels like forever, letting all of the cervices of the soft cushions embody you, you turned your face towards the table. A small note was taped against it. Scrunching your eyes, you made out the important words. Gone, left at 11 AM. Expected to be back around 7 PM, so really 10. Don't do anything crazy. Of course, they wouldn't be back till late; you wouldn't expect anything else. This is great news. This left you hours with Sal, if he wanted to be with you for that long. You know you did.
Originally, you had only planned to be with him for a couple of hours, departing for dinner. However, with your lack of parents, this has given you a lot more time. You have to figure out what to do for the next couple of hours, before Sal gets out of the shower. You don't want to embarrass yourself…again. Getting up from the couch, your hair was all frizzy. Brushing it away, your feet moved quickly around the apartment, being mindful of your neighbors downstairs. You'd slide across the apartment, only to tiptoe in front of the bathroom, painfully slow with your hands full.
You put your mind to work. Originally, you had only planned to do arts and crafts with him, something simple that wouldn't take money or travel. The kitchen counter was now covered with paper, painting brushes, and water cups lined up. This would take about two hours, including the times you have, in the past, thrown paint at each other. However, with your shower, it probably wouldn't occur. This reduces the time to an hour. You will have lunch, so that will help. Your stomach started to swirl, and your hands were shaking. You shook your head. Don't let nerves take over. He will like it, no matter what you do. Hopefully.
You had created a list ages ago, which you kept in your room. Sal had trusted you more than himself, and so you now possessed the "Summer Plans Awesomeness." The title made you laugh. Scanning it, a couple of ideas stuck out for you. Baking, watching movies. Hopefully, these should keep you occupied. Until your parents, maybe, come home.
The bathroom door unlocked, and you heard the shuffling behind the door. A gulp came from you. Time to start the next couple of hours. You got this.
A/N: Continuation of “Meet me at Wendigo Lake” :). Find this on my ao3 and quotev! PLEASEE read the ending notes!!
C/W: Romantic, gets sad abit and happy again. Larrys involvment. :)
Word Count: 2.050k
After your long, not-so-smart chase, a serious shower was in order. Sal had led the way to your apartment, picking up his pace after the short interaction in the elevator. The CD was still held tight in his hand as he scurried over, rubbing his thumb over the seams. Despite how calloused his hands are from his guitar playing, they were still soft. Gentle on everything he touches, especially on you, just a few moments before.
The elevator. Your mind was trying to block it out, but your heart couldn't deny what just occurred between you. The fluttering that is happening inside you, making you second-guess whether it's heat stroke or a heart attack. His sudden change in demeanor in there, as in stepping into an alternate universe of himself, turning back into himself once you made it to your floor. If Ash were here, that would be your next sleepover conversation.
Ash, how was she? It has been almost half a week since your 'Summer Plans', but yet, with how much has been going on, you feel as though it has been going on for ages. You don't particularly mind that, though, especially when reminding yourself of how much more time you have alone. Another thing Ashley would bug you about, making you sigh. Though how pushy she can be about your…relationship…with Sal, you missed her. The silly jokes she makes, the play fights with Larry, it feels incomplete without both of them here.
She promised to send cards, as she did last time. Every day, it seemed like a new one arrived with contents making it seemed like she lived a lifetime. Where are they now? You bit your lip, trying to ignore the intrusive thoughts running through your mind. Even Larry, Lisa isn't so strict as not to let him go outside: you haven't run into him once. Though exploding a paint can on another student, you suppose, is bad, even though Travis deserves it. Letting your lip go, slightly blood-coated, you continue on your walk toward your apartment.
Making it over to your apartment with Sal holding the door open, you were met with silence as you called out for your parents. Good. If they were to see you like this—both of you like this—the imaginary spiel made your head spin. Where you both went, what you were doing, "Do you know what could have happened to you?" The stench of garbage ran through your nose, snapping you out of your trance. Might as well get a start on it before they come in.
Even without them at home, out of force of habit, you quietly shut the door with a small click! The filth on your skin continued to grow, feeling as though it was spreading with each step you were taking towards your bedroom, not really wanting to touch your clothes. However, that was quickly solved with another problem: they were all dirty. Eying your clothes pile, internally, you were slamming your head against the wall. The past few days of adventure left no time to do your laundry, only enabling your procrastination when you did, such as last night. You just stood in the doorway, stuck. You didn't want to put on dirty clothes, not when you were just filthy. Your other option is out the window, reminding yourself of Sals' presence. Tapping your foot against the carpet, you were left to just think. Maybe even cry. Leave a valuable lesson on why not to procrastinate, especially with your clothes.
Sal came over your shoulder, staring over at the clothes pile with you. You didn't acknowledge his presence until a small voice came out. "If you need—or want, I uh, have some clothes at my place." Embarrassment crawled up your neck, shutting the door as fast as you could. He is your friend; normal to see dirty rooms, I mean, have you seen Larry's? It's a whole experience on its own, deserves its own museum for the creatures growing in there. Yet, you looked away, only able to nod at his question. "Alright! I'll be right back." Brushing shoulders, he left quickly, only to turn back around, the door ajar. "Anything you would like in particular? Sweatpants, hoodie?" In response, you said no, hearing the door click again, the footsteps fading away outside.
While he was getting his—or I guess, your clothes, the shower should be started. Hot water was hard to achieve in the apartments. It is an art to get it started, ever since you moved in. Lisa has checked it several times, eventually having Mr.Addison calling plumbers. However, every time, no issue was found. It would work for a few moments, only to have the hot water shut off again, like ghosts were playing around with it to have fun. Every blue moon, the hot water works for a week, only to stop again. Changing out of your clothes, you considered throwing them in the garbage, but hearing your parents' voice scream in the back of your mind, you begrudgingly threw them in the hamper. Today, you hoped it was your lucky day for a long, hot shower.
Sadly, the same old story happened again. Turning the shower knob, the hot water graced your skin. A smile formed, standing there with your arms wide, accepting the hot water, cleaning your skin. The filth came off, watching as the clear water turned brown, flowing into the drain. You stepped away from it, disgusted by your own state. However, as you finally reached for the start of rubbing it into your hair, the cold water struck like a bullet. You should be used to it, considering every night you suffer the Arctic waters, but it still struck you with surprise. Goosebumps quickly formed, replacing the filth on your skin. Normally, this would be a sign to hurry up, but with the conditions you were in, there was no rushing. The idea of the objects you passed by only makes you sick, rubbing harder on your skin.
Oh my god. Those three words kept circling in Sals' mind as he rushed back over to his apartment, quickly opening the door. Ignoring the following slam, he found himself pacing around, rubbing his hand across the prosthetic face before placing the CD down on the table. The smell of sweat filled the air, reminding him of his task: clothes. His clothes for you to wear after you shower, watching you walk around as if they are your own. The pit in his stomach grew, and his eyes scanned across his laundry baskets for clothes. What would you even like to wear? You said you didn't care, but what if you liked sweatpants? That's stupid; it's like 100 degrees out, with his face feeling like molten lava. So shorts? But the only shorts he has are his briefs, and you wouldn-.
A small voice was heard, muffled by his pillows. "Yo, Sal! You there?" Doing a 180 on his heels, he peeled the pillow off the bed, revealing the walkie-talkies. Sal pushed the PTT: "Yeah, what's up?" "BRO! Did you take my advice for yknow?" His voice turning sultry, swearing, he could envision the eyebrow shift up and down.The elevator. His clothes. Sals hand tightened around the radio. "I uh, yeah, something like that." Larry's whistles fill the room, along with some clapping. "SEE! You can do it. You just gotta..do it!" His rambling continued, falling on empty ears. Scrambling could be heard on Sals end, by throwing clothes across his already semi-dirty bedroom, trying to find an outfit before you came out the shower. "uh..dude?" Larry questions, a slight tinge of concern heard in his voice. "Are you..alright? You sound like you are fighting a ghost over there!" Though meant to be a joke, Larrys chuckle was met with silence, with the occasional static and clothes shuffling. "Seriously, Sal, I'm getting worried." Finally, Sals finger tips reach a pair of gray sweatpants, along with a black t-shirt: the Sal clothing package. Is this, good? Ok to do? Without realizing, a deep sigh comes from the bluenette. "..Larry?" "Yeah Sal?"
Sal pauses.
"Do you..even think I have a shot?" Sal can hear Larry hesitate, but quickly puts his thoughts together. "Of course dude! I mean, you are awesome! Do you see the way she looks at you?" Sal pauses again, rubbing the soft fabric of the sweat pants between his thumb and pointer finger. "No, not really." "I-..what do you mean?" Sal hesitates to tell the story, but looking at walkies-talkie again, his mouth starts moving on his own.
"I mean..I..ok. Today, we hung out. They brought me to the new music store downtown, you know, the new one? It was a huge surprise for me, and I just felt..special. I mean, they really know me. What I enjoy, like, passionate about, even though they dont particularly know about all of that music stuff. I just, they blow me away. Everything they do. The kindness in their heart, their silly nature, all of it. We ran in the allyways today, not sure how it started, but yet, it felt right. Freeing. We ran all the way back, and I guess I was just so caught up that..I lost..sense of..me? I made a move- small! Not anything crazy." Sals voice peaks, quickly trying to adjust any mixed messages, before continuing.
"Yet, it seemed like it got nowhere. Silence. That's all I got. Now, Im sitting here in my bedroom getting my clothes for this 'friend' to change into because all of it is dirty. I mean, do they really see me that way? I'm just the freak with a prosthetic, that will always hang around because I just can't let go, no matter how much it hurts me right now to give this. God Larry, it just hurts-."
"Sal." Larrys voice was much deeper now, far from the goofy, cheery tone he usual has. The tone that he only uses when over the phone, hes trying to pretend to be an adult, only for them to find out its Larry and hang it up. "Listen, I'm not uh, great at this sorta thing. This is kinda Ash's deal, the mom of the group, yknow?" He chuckles, but its empty.
"But, what I can say is this. You may not see it, but I promise you, its there. Every time the four of us go out, you two are always attracted like magnets. Todd said this once to me actually—the day we went to the carnival. You two went off to get some prizes, so close together I swear you were going to knock each other out by bumping heads. Your attraction, positive and negative, pulls you in so close that it feels natural, because it is. You both like each other so much you don't even realize it, and mistake every little thing as if you don't, because your worried of chasing each other off: but you can't. Physically, or 'scientifically' if Todd were here-" That earned a small chuckle out of Sal. "It just isn't possible. They probably were just caught up in the moment, didn't know how to respond. You get like that too."
Sals shoulders straighten, stopping the soothing movement on the clothing. "My point is, you worry, a lot. You always think about what ifs, because you don't trust that you could have something. But you do. Let yourself have this one Sal, you are deserving of it." Silence filled between the two boys for what felt like an entirety, letting the words process in his mind. "You aren't a freak Sal." Larry finally speaks up, "None of us think that. Especially them." Small tears form in Sals eyes, quickly unbuckling his mask to wipe them. "..Thanks Larry." Sal finally musters, swallowing the rest of any hint of sadness. Sal swore he could feel Larrys smile, the energy shifting back into his normal persona. "Now, go get them!! You have their clothes, right? Don't want to leave them-". Sals face brightened, reaching for the radio. "DON'T-". Before he could stop him, Larry was already gone.
I just want to say THANK YOU for all of the support I have recieved over the last year!! It has offically hit 1 year of this blog starting, and I couldnt have done it without all of you reading my posts. I honestly didn't think at first I would make it to this point, having an audience, but I am so grateful I was proven wrong. :)
New chapter of "Meet me at Wendigo Lake" is out! And HCs coming out shortly :). Thank you all again!
shoutout to AO3 authors who write 100k fics for free while juggling mental illness, academic burnout, 3 jobs, and a deep-rooted need to fix fictional people.
A/N: Continuation of “Meet me at Wendigo Lake” :). Find this on my ao3 and quotev!!
C/W: Romantic! Lowkey flirty Sal at the end.
Word Count: 1.786k
Sal held the door for you as you left Thread Pro, turning your chest towards him. Though you cant see his face, looking through his eyes, you can see his mask shift upwards due to a smile. Sal was more than happy; his life purpose was completed on this trip. Being able to let his musical heart sing around the store for the past two hours, despite not buying anything other than a tiny guitar pick, was more then enough for him. Even if he won't take anything expensive home (more than a dollar), the experience was all he needed.
However, you couldn't accept it. Not with the look he gave that CD. His body language, gripping onto that CD like it would go away if he loosened his grip even slightly. Sal's eyes almost seemed glossy, like he couldn't believe what treasure he had come across. Though you aren't sure why, leaving that CD there is denying the universe of the guided path, so 5 dollars left your wallet.
"Why are you acting like..?" Sal had started, but shut quickly his mouth. "Like what?" He had picked up on your secret bag. Adjusting your arms behind your back to keep it out of sight, Sal had started dodging his head left and right beyond your shoulders. You were able to back up, moving swiftly on your feet away from him in a weird jig, almost skipping in reverse. "I don't have anything!" Your little squeak after "anything" had given it away. You've never seen Sal run, not even at school during the mile, but of course, the day you have a surprise, he started putting his legs into use.
You didn't think Sal would run as fast as he did. Probably from Larry's constant nicknames of: "Shortie", "Fun-sized", or the groups favorite: "Smurf". One time, you had called him pips quick when Sals voice cracked during a conversation you had, making Ashley's drink come right out of her nose. Point was, with his one sided beef with his vertical plane, you thought you had a pretty solid chance of winning your game of chase. But feeling his hand just missing your sleeve, you couldn't deny how close he actually was.
So, the challenge had begun. Zooming across the street, you had looked ahead for any side streets. Alleyways, roads, something to throw him off track. You passed by a couple, but all were filled with garbage, or something you wouldn't want to mess with. You couldn't keep running straight, not with the noise of his breath getting louder and clearer behind you. To your right, you saw your escape. A long, skinny alleyway with some garbage cans in the path. Here was your chance.
Suddenly, you made a quick turn to the right, hearing the skidding of Sal's feet behind you to slow down. Suspected out of a guitar player to have a fast reaction time. There was a lot more than just garbage in this alleyway. Broken glass, pizza boxes, and what you would like to assume is a living persons clothes (trying to ingore the smell). Obstacle through obstacle, you jumped, slid, and climbed over; making your way to the end to be greeted by a metal fence. You shouldn't climb over it, but ignoring the sign, the strong force from your hands gripped on and kept moving.
You'd assume Sal would stop you here. A shout warning you to end your new game here. But all you heard behind you was the metal fence shaking by his weight, with a sudden crash between his feet and the concrete. He was having a blast. Smirking, you continued pushing your feet forward, leading you two to an unknown area.
It didn't look dangerous, but the smell had only continued to grow. It was rancid, almost bad enough to make you stop and turn around. But the growing in speed in his steps kept you going, turning a sharp left. Once again, you had caught him off guard, the friction between the bottom of Sal's feet and the pavement making the sweet old sound of buying you time.
When you had entered this new side path, you expected more garbage. Left behind objects that the restaurant walls between you no longer needed. Instead, there rested a cardinal. Just sitting, minding no business to the surroundings around it. Hearing you stop to not run into the bird, it perched up at you. A small, red bird, in the middle of the alleyway, that looks like its..smiling at you? Though its face is too small to tell, you smile back anyway, waving at the bird carefully to not chase it off. It doesn't move, but rather, move its wing closest to you in response. Is it saying hello? But before you could think harder, the bird had flown off in a hurry, landing on top of the restaurant building.
…Sal is still chasing you.
He had almost got you, the wind between you sending a small chill up your side. Throwing the bag in your right hand to your left, it prevented him from reaching the bag to pull you back. Almost falling into you, Sal caught himself, buying you time. Turning the corner, you had caught a glimpse of him. Sal's once, 'put together', though it never is, hair was now disheveled. His once perfectly rolled up pants were now coming undone, and his sweatshirt now off, wrapped around his waist. His black t-shirt, due to the sweatshirt, had fit right around his frame, showing off his frame. Your feet slid into a stop, only for a short moment. You had never seen him without a sweatshirt, let alone a t-shirt, even when it reaches crazy heats in Nock fell. Something fitting so perfectly to his frame- you shook your head. Your best friend? Seriously?
You are just observing. Something you never got to see. With your heart pumping so fast? You were just running- were running. Looking ahead of you, your feet were forced to start again, leading all the way to the apartments.
The game didn't end there, but it had to get a whole lot more quiet. The apartments don't have stairs, so to keep it smooth, you had to get in the elevator first. It seemed easy, considering the distance you had put between you two by chucking something nearby behind you, making sure it didn't actually hit him. Nontheless, it held him off, enough for you to open the front door of the apartments and press the elevator button.
The elevator had opened, revealing the space. Finally, you can declare victory. Filled with ricketing of the elevator, you had closed your eyes, putting your back towards the cold wall. Your legs felt like jello, being able to relax revealed just how tired you were. The adrenaline was slowing in you, taking a deep breath in.
With two deep breathes out.
"You know, it was quite close back there." Sals voice had suddenly filled the space, the elevator door closing before you could even twist your hips towards it. "How did you-", but before your airy voice could speak, Sal had backed you in further than before.
"Larry has shown me a couple shortcuts around here, his nightly adventures had gotten him in a few rough spots." Sal was clearly just as tired as you, his lungs catching up as he took more deep breathes in. His legs shaking ever so slightly, but yet, he moved into your personal space step by step. "Quite grateful for that now, huh?"
A gulp from you came out much louder then you wanted. Here he was, the once bluenette chasing you down the streets, suddenly in your space. Just as close from the night before, putting on makeup. Sitting in his lap, feeling every breath, every pump of his heart as if your bodies were one. Only this time, it wasn't the soft type of tension that filled the one inch gap, but much, much deeper. One that made your heart pound even faster, which you thought couldn't be possible.
You tried to speak, say anything, but your dry throat cut you short. There really wasn't anything to be said, not with words anyway. Your eyes locked, staring deeply into each others iris's. Soft blinks were only able to break that trance, just to go back to that feeling. Without thinking, your feet subconsciously moved themselves, bumping lightly into the man in front of you, but as always, he caught you.
With his hands creeping around your waist, there was no escape. No alleyways to run into, no sense of time to return to your room, being filled with the feeling of loneliness. Just you and him, in an elevator that seemed to be frozen in time.
You felt a lot lighter. Maybe it was knowing he was there, holding onto you despite your unkempt state. Covered in sweat, scratches, and disgustingly, a few pieces of garbage passed along the way. But he wasn't looking at that, just you. Only you.
And the bag he had now stolen from your hands.
Sal was still grabbing onto your waist with one hand, but his eyes turned over to the small plastic bag. "Looks like I win." A small chuckle came from the bluenette, the sweet, kind boy you know. That now was still holding your waist. He jiggled the bag to guide the CD over to his view, squinting his eyes slightly. Once Sal noticed the item inside, he stopped. All Sal could manage to do was look up at you, holding a serious look that you couldn't shake. Was it..bad? Does he not like it? For once, you failed to tell how he was feeling. The grip around you tighter gave you confirmation. "You..got the CD?" It came out shaky, uncertain. "Of course-why wouldn't I?" You finally found your voice, trying to suppress your nerves. All you got was silence, but then, the elevator opened, silencing the words from Sals mouth.
"Ah- the elevator finally opened." Sal released his hand from your waist, now realizing it was there at all. "OH -. I- uhm." Gibberish came from him, only catching the words: "I'm sorry" over and over, before just deciding to give up and move forward. Nothing about the CD. At least, what you could have heard.
You don't think he is going to tell you. Thats ok, though, because from what you notice, he seems a whole lot happier after seeing it.
But for now, looking at your hand that was once holding the paper bag, you noticed a piece of garbage. Before any more talking, you both will be cleaning up.
Hello everybody!! I am so excited to announce that I have a linktree! This means that all of my socials are in one place, along with the new option of sending me requests!
You can ask me for a general request, which will be posted on my page and if you wish I will give credit for the post, OR a personal request!
A personal request would be JUST for you (unless you want it to be posted online), with anything you want as long as it passes my personal guidelines!
Thank you all for the support, and here is the link to my linktree!: https://linktr.ee/icancomet
A/N: Continuation of “Meet me at Wendigo Lake” :). Find this on my ao3 and quotev!!
C/W: Romantic!
Word Count: 2.179k
The clock read “8:57 PM”. Exactly 3 minutes ago, you had left Sal’s apartment. You were just leaning into him, right on top of his lap, to reach his mask. Your leggings sliding against his red, ripped jeans, the friction allowing you to stay perfectly still. You were entwined as if gorilla glue had stuck you together, despite the shaking from the man underneath you. Sal was trying to focus on you, but feeling your heartbeat against his chest only distracted him more.
Through his eyeholes, he was able to watch your “serious” expression as you guided the fluffy brush so delicately against his mask as if he were a masterpiece in the making. With your tongue stuck out, slightly bitten, and eyes scrunched, you were determined to apply makeup in every crevice of his mask. The next Leonardo da Vinci, only he, as you claimed, could never pull this off. In your opinion, though, you weren't starting beauty from scratch. Nor enhancing it, but you put every second into him anyway. Because he deserved it, you said when he asked, making him cough from the "excess powder" from your carelessness with your swipes.
But now, standing in front of you as you share your goodbyes for the evening, with you off of him, he felt..empty. Incomplete, almost, like it was meant to be that way. You fit perfectly onto him, like two puzzle pieces coming together, finally having that "click" moment he had seen in those romance movies Ashley forced Sal to watch. "You'll just know!" She had told Sal hundreds of times, chewing popcorn into his ear. "And then once you do, you can go in for the real deal~" Her sly tone, followed by her wiggling eyebrows, made Sal laugh, taking the stress off just a smidgen. Was this that time, though? I mean, with you only inches apart, surely it would have occurred. But, without thinking, Sal asked: "Do you want to sleep over tonight? I-if that's ok with your parents!" His voice cracked, making him internally punch himself in the face. Maybe he won't ever know what the "time" is, but hearing you laugh it soothed him. You waved off to him, promising to return right back with an answer.
But when you returned, a smile no longer was on your lips. Sadly, you weren’t able to convince your parents of a sleepover. Though the reason you gave him was “Family plans”, he knew the real concern. With a boy. Let alone a boy with a mask. With no Ashley or Larry around, from apartments away, Sal swore he could feel your parents' disapproval. The floor started sinking under him. You could read him like a book, waving your hands in front of him as his eyes sink into the darkness behind the mask. "I promise! My family just wants me home earlier this evening." But it was no use. He didn’t blame them, but the weight of the makeup suddenly felt a lot heavier; it only continued to sink with your touch by pulling him in. He felt like a rag doll.
"Maybe tomorrow?" You whispered into his ear, your breath tingling the outskirts of his ear. A small shiver went down his spine. "W-we don't have-". Your grip tightened around his waist. "Silly!" A small, almost whisper-yell came from your throat. "We will. Tomorrow, I'll meet you in front of the building. I have just the perfect thing." A small squeeze was felt around him once again, and before he could pull you in protest, he had already lost you. There was no use chasing you down, not with the heaviness in his chest weighing him down where he was standing. An anchor of safety. For his safety. With the way he feels, he knows he would have chased you down. Embrace you closer, closing the gap you had left just minutes before doing his makeup. Letting your lips touch oh so lightly, yet let his passion be known. Say thank you for the kindness you have shown him over the past year, ready to repay you in full for every heart flutter you have given him.
But he couldn't do that to you. Not with your parents, not with the lack of..him. And so, there he shall stand, in the middle of his living room, while he watches you walk away with passion in your steps, while a part of passion in him dies.
The sun had rolled around, glistening with the promise of a new day, but the aroma of your lemon makeup wipes still lingered. After a few hours, the smell would have died down in the mix of his garbage corner. But it stuck. The closer he got to it, Sal swore he could smell the blush, eyeliner, and you. That sweet, soft smell you carried wherever you went, but he could never place what it was. Was it apple, vanilla? Or maybe that new orange blossom scent you were eye googling at the mall that you said was too expensive, but you returned with a small bag in your hand, thanks to Sal. He waved himself off. He couldn't cling to those silly thoughts. That growing, warm feeling tightening around his heart with the knowledge you were here. In his room, at least, you would stay.
Before you had departed for the evening, you devised a plan. At every hangout, there was a constant battle over whose turn it was to choose plan ideas. Sal always insisted it was your turn, even though it's been your fifth, and he knows that. Why would he do that, though? I mean, it must get boring for him to have you make all the decisions. So, instead, you won't give him the opportunity, but choose with him solely in mind. That's why today is his special day, the guitar store. You know absolutely nothing about guitars, nor music. The music sheets Sal has shown you in the past look like summoning scrolls for the deep demons, despite how many countless hours he’s spent trying to explain them. How could you even play a sixteenth note? The day you understand that, then maybe there is some hope. For now, you are more than happy to sit back and watch Sal’s fingers happily play.
“Thread Pro”, the guitar store found a few blocks down, opens in an hour, giving you and Sal plenty of time to get breakfast and hurry on for the day. Collecting your leather wallet, the jingling inside follows your footsteps. Typically, you would run into each other on your way to the elevator, smiling and waving from afar before eventually crossing into a hug. However, as you opened your apartment door and looked down the hall for your favorite blue-nette, the lack of color put you back a few steps mentally. Sal could have beaten you today, you thought to yourself as you slowly locked the door behind you, finally finding the strength to walk out of your apartment. But your nerves held you back. Last night had struck you as odd. One moment, you were laughing on top of him as you brushed his face with makeup, admiring how beautiful he looked from that angle. But the refusal of the sleepover, you could see the storm forming inside of him. You don't want to make any assumptions, especially with your meetup today. It would hold you back subconsciously. Sal will pick up on it. But still, it wasn't normal. Potentially, it was something you said, but there was no use trying to figure out people's thoughts.
And so, making your way down the rickety elevator with surprisingly only 3 creeks today, eventually you were standing outside. Today's weather didn't make you want to drown in an ice pool, which has been an improvement considering the past weeks. Your father has been insisting that you go outside, get some sun on your skin, but the heat was too unbearable. Even Gizmo, the cat known for lying all day in front of the sunny windows, had found himself a nice home in the dark pits of Sal's room. Sal. Where had he gone? Though you never gave him a definite time, typically your schedule follows the same pattern: Breakfast, fooling around in the streets until your destination, almost getting kicked out until you decide to go home. So where is he? The rejection couldn't have struck him so deeply, after all, plans get struck down quite often due to Ashley's parents. As if he could read your mind, the door slid against the pavement behind you.
"Ah, looks like you beat me today." A small chuckle came from Sal, but his non-genuine tone tells it's not as funny as he may believe. Rather, knowingly. "Well, yeah! Being such a slowpoke, Sally Face." You enunciated his name while reaching over to poke him, but his body moved back a step. Your finger twitched as you pulled back, turning to face forward. "Sorry, I woke up late this morning. Gizmo had to paw me awake." That could be true. Before you turned, you had noticed the marks on Sal's hands, likely from fighting back his thirty-pound son. But Sal can't hide behind Gizmo for this one.
Though it was awkward at first, you eventually matched each other's pace, walking side by side, watching as the sun rose on the horizon—a mix of pinks and yellows beautifully complementing Sals' blue hair. It highlighted the stray hairs that otherwise would just be considered in his "mop" of hair, due to his being his own hairstylist. That will have to be your next "self-care" night with Sal. You went to go reach for his hair, but remembering earlier, your hand fell back at your side. "So, where are we going exactly?" Although you tried to hide your excitement, the extra energy in your steps couldn't be repressed. "It's a secret! Trust me, you will love it!" You added the extra sentence as, even though with his mask, you could see the suspicious look forming underneath. Unsure, "ahuh's" came from him, nodding his head in full certainty. As always, he quickly waved it off and reassured that he would love it no matter what. "No, I really mean it! You are going to love this place."
That, he did. It took no more than 5 minutes to arrive in front of the glowing sign: "Thread Pro" followed underneath: "Home for all musicians' needs!". You heard a barely audible gasp from next to you. Turning your head, you didn't expect to make eye contact with Sal. He was staring at the sign in awe before devoting his attention to you..in awe. "I..I don't even know what to say." Sal swallowed deeply, his eyes kept averting toward the door and you. "I'm assuming you like it?" Of course, he did; you knew that. He has been talking about this store ever since it opened, but he never had the time or the money for it. Rubbing your thumb against the opening of your wallet, you shook it toward the door, trying to guide him to take the leading steps. Instead, you found yourself in a tight embrace, throwing you off balance, only to be quickly let go when his brain caught up with his body. "Sorry-lets uhm. Let's go inside, yeah?" You had only wished his brain shut off, only for seconds more.
Inside, it was full of all the equipment you'd expect to see at a music store. Yet, to Sal, it felt like he landed in a gold mine. Various types of strings, guitar picks, and even CDs on your left. In the back corner, a polished red guitar made eye contact with you. It glistened under the fluorescent light, for advertising purposes. You didn't know where to start, but luckily, Sal had no intention leaving you in front of the door.
Waving to the store clerk, he grabbed your sleeve and started walking as slow as he could around the store. It was like a child in a candy store exploring just how many candies there are in the world, terrible for parents whose kids will eat anything and everything. But Sal was delicate about what he examined, not taking the eye-catching items just because they were flashy. Immediately, there were quite a few. Though you had no clue what half of them were, you could admit some of these looked pretty impressive, which you found out they were collected by the owner. Your footsteps stopped. What caught his eye? Reaching your head over his shoulder, you found he was looking at a CD, "My Wish." His grip was awfully tight, making the plastic around the CD shift, letting go once noticing your presence. "Is that what you want?" You finally decided to ask, already seeing him putting it away. "Uh-no. It's alright."
As he walked away, you quietly grabbed the CD, hiding it in your back pocket as he dragged you along once again.
It felt like hours in there. Walking on the same white tiles, the light is burning your eyes. But finally, Sal had decided to buy a guitar pick with a pink swirl design on the back. You had fought, but eventually you forced Sal to let you buy his items. With his back turned, you had sneaked a wink at the cashier with the CD, receiving a light smile back. The cashier waved his finger at you to come closer. Leaning in, he had whispered: "This is quite the gift for your boyfriend over there! It's sweet." Let alone somebody recognizing he is a man, the comment of the boyfriend put your heart for a twist. All you could do was smile and wave, walking away, hiding the bigger size bag behind you as Sal held open the door for you.
