Strange Blue Feelings • Sallyface

Misunderstanding [12]

Your mother was cozily sat upon the living room couch, silently reading the newspaper to herself before she was interrupted by the sound of knocking on the front door. She glanced over at the clock up on the wall, 9:45AM. Not too early but still unusual, considering she wasn't expecting anyone and didn't think any teenagers would willingly be up so early. Setting down the paper, she hurriedly walked over towards the door, glancing through the peephole and smiling when she saw who it was, wasting no time in opening the door, "Sal! How nice to see you, dear. You're up early considering how late you kids were out last night.", she remarked with a chuckle.

Standing in the hall, Sal also chuckled before letting out a small yawn, he had clearly just woken up. It was easy to tell by his messy loose hair and the droopy eyes within the eye holes of his mask, "Yeah, heh. Sorry if it's a bit early for me to come around but, I was just wondering if Y/N was awake yet...? She mentioned last night about going to the arts and crafts store today and I wanted to see if I could go with her.", he explained. "Oh honey.", your mother gave him a sympathetic frown, "I'm sure she would've loved that, but unfortunately Y/N woke up with a nasty cold earlier this morning. She took some cold medicine and completely knocked out, I doubt she'll be awake anytime soon. Silly girl went out last night without a jacket, even though I warned her it'd be cold.", she said while shaking her head.

Sal frowned underneath his mask, concern for you instantly growing within him, "Oh, geez, really? She's sick? Man, that sucks. We tried to tell her last night that she could borrow mine or Larry's jacket, but she can be so...so-", finishing his sentence, your mother chimed in, "Stubborn? Because she definitely is, always wanting to be tough and not ask for help.", she said with a laugh, making Sal laugh too. "Yeah, she can definitely be pretty stubborn sometimes. Anyways, I guess I'll head back home, don't want to interrupt her sleep. Could you please tell Y/N I hope she feels better soon, and to maybe use the walkie talkie we gave her last night to keep us updated?", he asked.

Your mother couldn't help but smile at how polite your masked friend was, she could tell he genuinely cared for you, "Of course dear, I'll be sure to tell her. Have a nice day, Sal.", she said to him, Sallyface returning the sentiment as well before the door was closed and he returned to his apartment. Feeling deflated, Sal trudged back to his room and flopped back into bed, scaring Gizmo who was in the middle of a cozy cat nap.

He removed his prosthetic and began to take slow, steady breaths, eyes shut in an attempt to relax and hopefully drift back off to sleep. "Tired...my eyes feel strained...just fall...back alseep....", his dull sleepy thoughts however were quickly shoved aside, being replaced with your name instead, "Y/N...Y/N.....", flashes of what had happened the previous night began to play through his mind as if it were a steamy scene from one of the many horror movies he's seen, the trope of two teenagers making out with each other before the killer slashes them to death.

He remembered how terrible it felt to argue with you for the first time, how nerve wracking it was to hear you say you'd kiss him, and how absolutely heavenly it felt to have his lips against yours within the cozy, dark confines of the treehouse.

Letting out a long, content sigh, Sallyface couldn't help but reminisce upon how beautiful you looked last night. Your soft yet intense makeup that made you resemble some sort of goddess of the night, your perfectly styled [H/C] hair that framed your adorable face perfectly, the black velvet dress that complimented your figure so wonderfully, you just always looked so angelic to him.

"Her dress...was the fabric velvet? I couldn't really tell in the moment, but by the way it felt-", suddenly, he felt his face and ears instantly become incredibly hot as he thought about the fabric of your dress, the fabric of the dress his fingers were gripping onto so tightly yesterday. His grip that had caused you to let out...that noise. Shooting up out of bed, he frustratedly began to tug at the messy blue strands of hair upon his head, ashamed of just how excited he got every time he remembered that sound that had escaped your lips the night before.