homesick | sal fisher x fem!reader ;; ❞

𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 .17

-
╰┈➤ ❝ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : ❞
None
-

The hallways, still rowdy as ever, continued their routinely crowd.

Luckily, you sought refuge in first period, soon venturing towards Mrs. Martinez's class.

Larry shared this particular class with you, albeit he wasn't much assistance. Regardless of his steady grade in art, the metalhead wasn't all too concerned in paying the class much mind. He'd goof off and still maintain an above average grade when it came to the artistic, perfectionist teacher's class.

You, however, weren't as artistically gifted.

"Hey, psst." A hoarse, whispered voice beckoned your attention, throwing the accasional scrap of paper towards your stubble desk. "psssst-!"

No matter your resistance, the disruption prevailed, a particularly thick, crumpled up ball of paper hitting the back of your scalp as it pleaded for your undivided attention.

"Dude." It rasped, frustrated with your lack of cooperation. Eyes clenched shut, you grit your teeth, grip restricting the pencil within your grasps. "Pssst-!"

"WHAT." You deadpanned, eyes pinched in irritation as the honey-toned brunette shot you a cheeky grin. "What do you want, Larry."

Dimples prominent within his beaming smile, they complimented his mahogany eyes. Choppy, chocolate locks framed his strong jawline, the features somehow matching his childish grin.

He leaned forward, hunched over his own desk as his face hovered mere inches infront of your own. You gulped, strangely intimidated by the invasion of one's personal bubble.

"Can I help you?" You coughed, eyes intently boring into his dark hues.

"Can I borrow a pencil?" Asked the brunette. Long, dexterous fingers tapped his desk, awaiting your gracious reply. You huffed, exasperated by his antics.

Rummaging around within the small case, you acquired a pencil, stiffly handing it to him as he thanked you. I'm never seeing that again..

After what you hoped was the last of his interruptions, you resorted back to the whiteboard placed strategically in front of the class. In what felt like moments later, yet another ball of thin, construction paper collided with your head.

You sneered, snatching the colorful paper ball as you unraveled it's crunchy material, glaring at the raptured metalhead.

"Where were you and Sal?"
"-Larry"

With a second glance, an unamused frown was directed towards the expectant brunette. Pencil grasped within your diligent digits, you scrawled out a reply before you too, threw the sheet of colored paper back in spite.

"We flew here on our broomsticks, dipshit."

You had signed the 'letter', concluding the statement with 'xo' beneath. Larry rolled his mahogany, tired eyes as he penciled in what you hoped were an assignment he'd turn in on your behalf.

Alas, if it's too good to be true, you reminded, then it's probably not true.

"Did you guys drive?"
"-Larry"