homesick | sal fisher x fem!reader ;; ❞

𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋 .22

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╰┈➤ ❝ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : ❞
None
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Unsurprisingly, he wasn't paying attention again.

Sal, in hopes of forgoing the odd, foreign chemical imbalance amoung his tiresome mind, had resorted to what usually, helped.

Believe it or not, despite his own and the girl's difference, Sal wouldn't snoop to such a level. No, this distraction was much, much healthier.

Or, so he thought it'd be.

"I'm telling you, Larry." He gestured towards the pavement they both trudge on, inevitably heading home after a long day. "I haven't see her in weeks!"

Sal wasn't referring to you, actually. Rather, a lavender-haired girl no older than 8, her sudden absence concerned the bluenette.

"Dude, give it time." Larry, albeit worried himself, said. "You're talking to the dead, don't you think you should..ya know."

Perturbed, Sal cocked his head in oddity. "'Should' what?"

Larry kicked a small, scuffed pebble beneath his shoe, the remnants of melted snow beneath his own beaten up converse. "Should talk to a girl who's alive, maybe?"

Although Sal understood his friend's unintentional insult, his fists balled at his sides. Beneath the fractured prosthetic, his indented jaw tensed, teeth gritted as he spoke evenly.

"Not this again, please, Lar." replied Sal, wholeheartedly bothersome.

Larry, even with good intentions, sighed. "Dude, I'm being serious." He paused, gawking the bluenette's reaction. "I know things didn't work out with Ash, but it's not the end of the world."

An accasional gust of wind nipped at their ears, bitter and hallow as they prevailed. Sal just wanted to curl up in his own bed and for once, wished to stare at his own worn popcorn ceiling in desperation of sleep. He was tired. Frustrated, but mostly tired.

He'd worry over homework or how'd he get to and from school later, likely kept wide eyed and awake with hellish nightmares. That's when Sal would entertain his responsibilities, when they could perform a distraction to what he continued to run from.

Larry, on the other hand, would likely be dead to the world within the hour, fast asleep and as well, forgoing responsibility.

"I have bigger things to worry about." Sal retorted, inhaling sharply. "Megan is the most cooperative, if she doesn't come out, there's a problem."

"What about Sanderson? You talk to her, recently?"

Cerulean strands of hair, long and thick, swayed with motion as Sal shook his head in denial. "Can't. Haven't had time."

"It sounds like nothing is going on, then." Larry hoped, prayed even. He wasn't religious but after meeting Sal, the unpredictable was evident when in his friend's presence.

"Yeah, that's the problem." Sal said, "Nothing just doesn't happen, shits always going on."

The duo, cold and shivering, still walked. A car hadn't drove past them in a while, likely from Nockfell's harsh conditions.