she’s coming in from the cold, let her hands warm up [s.m.]
sally mckenna x fem!reader
requested: angst prom 16 “do the drugs still get you high” with sally [anon]
disclaimer: strong language, sexual nature, mentions of drug use
note: this is pure angst that, hopefully, will break my writers block
Stumbling into your room at the Cortez, your fingers trembled through the tangled locks of your hair. God, you felt like hell on legs; and not the good kind.
Your feet were swollen, the heels doing wonders at forcing a dull ache into the sole of your feet. Your legs were cold from the skirted work uniform, leaving a prompt trail of goosebumps down the delicate flesh of your thigh. You had chewed your lips raw, a habit that had been hard to shake after all these years.
Working at the local diner felt like being pregnant except there was no hope of finally going on maternity leave.
You could hear shuffling inside your room, not an uncommon sound. Between whatever was in the walls of the Cortez and Sally always being in and out of the room, it always felt like something was moving, shifting, creaking.
You kicked your heels off at the door, listening for the door lock to click as you turned it between your unsteady fingers.
A soft hiss fell from somewhere.
“Sally?” You called for the woman in the dark abyss of the room. The shuffling stopped at the sound of your gentle voice unhinging from your aching throat.
You screeched to a halt at the room’s entry way, not daring to push further as wide eyes stared back at you from the other side of the room. You could, in fact, only see her eyes which stared at you under the glowing light of the moon coming in from the window.
“Sally?” You questioned the unusually quiet older woman, who had never been anything less than enthused with your returning from work.
It wasn’t often that you had not been greeted with an eager kiss or even a ‘did you miss me?’ with that sarcastic smirk across her features.
She was frozen, wordless; staring at you with something unreadable in the darkness.
Your eyes furrowed as you flickered on the lights, blinking softly as your eyes attempted to adjust to the newfound light.
Your eyes flickered from Sally’s, down to her arm where, even in the dingy-yellow light, you could see a needle protruding from the bruised skin. You didn’t know what to say at first, you almost felt as if you were imagining it all.
“Sally.” You spoke calmly, voice echoing without waver, “You prom- you promised me.” If she hadn’t already looked guilty, she certainly did now as your voice cracked under the pressure of your emotions.
She extracted the needle from her arm quickly, “I can explain.” She spoke softly in fear that her voice would betray her. She stood hurriedly, stumbling at the rush of blood in her head at her own sudden movements.
You watched her tremble for a moment, trying to catch her brain up to the movement of her feet. She moved in your vague direction, arms outstretched to greet you.
You dodged her poor attempt at a welcome, scoffing into the quiet air.
It was silent for a moment as she tried desperately to clean up the mess around her. She expected you to yell at her, scream at her but it took her by even more surprise when you sucked in a sharp breath.
“Sally, you come and go in this room as you please. I spend half my nights lying awake wondering if it’s the cop down the hall or some poor traveler off the street that you’re screwing for the night. I do my goddamned hardest to give you a place to come back to each and every time that you turn up unsatisfied. I give you my bed, my affection, my support when no one else will. I give you my fucking body and allow you to use it as you please. And I come here to find you shooting up, in my room, like a broken goddam junkie?”
She paused under the pressure of your words, eyebrows furrowing as tears began cascading down her cheeks. Her head fell between her shoulders, hanging in embarrassment.
“Do the drugs still get you high?” The question caused her to stumble and begin babbling as she searched her empty throat for whatever she needed to say to you. “I just- I missed the feeling is all and...and you were at work and I...”
You cut her off, “Every day, I sit here and fall in love with the idea of you because I know I’ll never have you in the way that I want. I stay at this piece of shit hotel in hopes that one day you’ll finally see the way I feel for you. I wear this stupid fucking ring because even though you get to sleep with god knows who, god forbid I bring someone home to sleep with because you’re so fucking selfish. You won’t even call me your girlfriend to anyone who doesn’t appear to want to fuck me.”
The bite in your tone was pinging in her chest as the words rolled bitterly off your tongue. It was nearly two years of pent up aggression that had been banging at your rib cage for so long.
“And you repay me by shattering the last bit of hope I had for this relationship by fulfilling your filthy habits in my bed.”
She was quiet, swallowing whatever dumb excuse she had surely been trying to conjure up since you walked in. You scoffed at her inability to speak and turned on your heel, “I’m out of here.”
There was a fury of clothing being thrown into a suitcase, Sally watched with watery hooded eyes as she searched for the right words to say.
“They don’t.” She finally spoke over the sound of your rustling. You paused for a moment, contemplating whether or not you were going to look at her. You decided against it, continuing to shovel your clothes into the suitcase on the bed.
She huffed, “Nothing gets me high anymore. Not like you do.”
You let out a laugh that shook your chest, “Now is not the time for your sudden realization of love for me. I’m not falling for that again. Last time fucked me up too much.”
It was silent for a moment until you spoke again, calmly; “Billie Dean was right about you. I should have listened to her.”
Sally hung her head, a sob racking through her otherwise silence. “I do love you.” She pleaded, nearly galloping over to you as you zipped the suitcase. She took both of your hands into hers, desperately searching your eyes for whatever validation she was looking for.
“No you don’t Sally. And I’m not going to wait around for you to.”
It happened so fast; you stomping out of the room with your suitcase and slamming the door behind you. Sally collapsed onto the ground in a fit of sobs and shaking, pleading your name over and over again.
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