homesick | sal fisher x fem!reader ;; ❞

𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑 .4

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╰┈➤ ❝ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : ❞
Explicit mentions of cigar usage
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It was a droll afternoon, no sign of warm sunbeams or bitter drizzle in the sky. The scent of wet, earthly mist covered the unkempt lawn, like a blanket of comfort only a mother could provide. Fog wasn't unheard of in Nockfell, in fact, it consisted of the dreary town's scenery, most often like today.

The console between the bluenette's pale, clad ring fingers beeped and chimed with activity, soft tunes of whatever game had been thriving filled the quiet, empty air around him.

He laid flat on his back, strains of cyan resting beneath his skull as if a halo of divine ecstasy, his gaze fixated on the device in his grasps. The small, digital figure leapt across the pixelated spikes, just barely dodging gameover.

Larry had left momentarily, shuffling down the neglected boards of a ladder before he broke into sprint to his apartment, all not to long ago promising he'd be back.

Faint vibrations emitted from the gadget, a bright and bold letter coming to fruition. Not long after did Sal disregard the gearboy, merely tossing it onto a beanbag to cushion its' fall.

With a huff of exasperation, Sal had sat up. His leg bounced in anticipation, head held low as he glanced towards the tree house's entry.

Your heart caught in your throat when Sal locked your gaze, a giggle, an actual giggle emitted from him at your stunned expression.

In what could only be an excuse of a sputter, you asked. "..is this-?"

"Mine?" Sal's head motioned in a forward nod, the gesture referring to the shabby structure you had found yourself in. "Nopeee, try again."

You had already climbed through the aperture in the floor, hoisting Larry, who had been behind you the entire time, up. A small smile tugged at your lips, despite Larry's groaning as he sat across both Sal and you.

"...You okay?" You asked, tone slightly concerned.

Larry waved you off, a strained grin adorned his face. "You know how it is, running errands, just to be under appreciated."

Azure met mahogany, Sal's eyes lidded in amusement. "You forgot what you originally left for, Lar."

As you sat criss-cross on the wooden floorboards, your gaze flickered between the two, your digits tugging at the soda can's tab before taking a swig.

"So," Sal repeated your name, no longer bickering with the brunette. "Why'd you move to Nockfell?"

You blinked, genuine contemplation ensuing before you grinned. Too easy. "You willing to make a deal?"

Within an instant, Sal had shifted his body to face you, his arm rested atop his knee as a cornflower converse tapped against the stained rug he sat on, suggesting he was somewhat nervous.

"I tell you why I moved here," you explained, invested in your own antics. "-and you tell me where you're from."

"How'd you know I'm not from Nockfell?" Sal promptly retorted.

You mused, eyebrow cocked with mirth.

"Your accent," An index finger pointed accusingly at Sal, to which the boy now abruptly halted his movement. "You're not from around here."

Sal acted as if he pondered your demands, a slight hum to contemplate before he spoke, "you're still goanna keep your end of the deal, right?"

With a jolt, You nodded enthusiastically. Sal's own smile, despite being hidden, grew as your own widened. "New Jersey."