Formidable // Sally Face (2)

T w o

"Hey, kiddos!" Came the voice of Henry Fisher as he walked through the front door. 

The teens were sitting at the dining room table eating a meal prepared by Sal. He wasn't the best cook, but he was decent. He'd cooked dinner for himself more times than he could count due to his father's work schedule, so he picked up a few necessary skills along the way. Plus, Violet was relatively easy to feed, as she was a picky eater. He could never go wrong with mac and cheese or spaghetti.

"Hey, dad."

"Hi, Henry."

The man set his briefcase down on the counter with a weary sigh. He hated not being around to cook for Sal and Violet, although it was nice to see that his son was independent enough to compensate for this. "Sorry I wasn't here," he apologized. "Work ran a little late, today."

"It's alright, dad. We saved you some," Sal replied, gesturing to the pot on the stove. 

"Thanks, buddy." Henry ruffled his hair before turning to Violet, who had been twirling her fork in her noodles for an excessive amount of time. "How are you feeling today, Violet?"

She forced a small smile onto her face. "I'm okay, thank you."

"Good, good. I'll be on my computer if you guys need me. Sleep in separate beds and keep the door unlocked, you both know the rules." With that, he headed into his bedroom, softly closing the door behind him.

Violet hadn't set foot in her own apartment in months. She wasn't sure if she ever would again. The night after the incident, Sal and Larry helped her gather her necessities and moved her into the Fishers' apartment. Surprisingly, it took very little persuasion from the boys for Henry to allow it. After witnessing his own son's childhood, he felt as though he'd not only be betraying Violet by not taking her in, but Sal as well. 

Fortunately, Henry's rules were minimal (and very easy to disobey). Sal had blown up an air mattress right next to his bed, which hadn't been used once. He at least made sure to throw a pillow and blanket onto it to cover his tracks. As for not locking the bedroom door, he didn't find it terribly necessary, as Henry was either not home or too busy on his computer to come in anyway. Besides, the teens weren't intimate with each other aside from Sal's occasional kisses to Violet's head or cheeks. There really wasn't much to hide.

Violet looked down into her lap as Gizmo hopped into it, grateful for an excuse to finally stop picking at her food. "Hi, Gizmo," she spoke.

The feline purred and nuzzled her chin.

"Giz," Sal said with a mouthful of spaghetti, "get down and let her eat, will you?"

"It's okay, Sally. I'm not hungry, anyway."

He sighed. "You still need to eat, Vi. You barely touched your breakfast and lunch too."

"I guess I don't have much of an appetite today," she responded, just above a whisper. She couldn't even bring herself to look up at the boy. Instead, she focused on Gizmo, who had jumped back onto the floor and brushed his body against her calves.

Sal rose from his seat, peering into Violet's bowl. He'd intentionally filled it less than halfway in hopes that she'd feel less overwhelmed by the amount of food and actually eat. Alas, she'd only taken 2 bites at most. He moved to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and squeezing her. "Can you finish your bowl, please?"

"I don't know..." She reached up and curled her fingers around his wrists.

"Not even for ol' Sally Face?" He asked in a playful tone. He leaned down, pulling his prosthetic up, and pressed his lips to her cheek, making the loudest smooching noise he could muster without his dad hearing. "I slaved over this spaghetti, you know."