Sally Face x Reader | Book 2

Almost the Same | Sal 🎟

It's a Friday night, after a little snooping around the apartments, the day ends with you and Sal looking after each other.

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As the sun began to set, the apartment became illuminated by a orange and pinkish tint. The summer sky was a mixed variation of those two colors, turning purple above the horizon. It was 8:00 P.M and it had barely begun to get late, still you and Sal were so tired. Usually after a day of investigation, Sal would stay over at your place just to be safe. He'd joke about "Just in case we didn't set off the alarms."

Your parents were always on trips, trying to make enough money to finally get out. Though it didn't seem like you would when the time came. Being alone all the time meant you could have the apartment to yourself, but after all the run ins with Nockfell's evil, it wasn't as exciting as it used to be. Still, you loved it as it had become your home.

Sal was sat on your bed, cleaning up the wound on the side of your face. He had been the only one to see your scars after the close call with death you had. A few months ago you had gotten into a car crash, you had spent days in the hospital after dealing with a fracture rib and half your faces wounds opening back up.

Many shards of glass had stuck onto your face, including a large piece that nearly sliced your tongue.

You've spent most of the time since then walking places, it really wasn't a problem since your mom didn't drive anymore, and going out with Sal mostly consisted of a five minute walk down the road to the park. Or a 20 minute walk to the city. While your scars have healed, permanent have stayed. It's easy to accidentally open those wounds.

Yawning hurt but as you got used to the pain, the healing paid off. The pain was nothing more than pinches at this point. You still had to clean the cuts as you had once woken up with your pillow having pink spots on it.

The stitches had come off a couple months back, the long pink indentations on your cheek. But the mask never did.

You felt too ugly to ever show your face. The beauty you felt you once had was ripped away by the drunk driver. Your mom was still as beautiful as ever. The same couldn't be said for you. You struggled to even look in the mirror. It hurt to know that you'd never go back that

"Are you okay?" Sal asked.

You blink. "Yeah? Why?"

"You didn't flinch when I rubbed the gel." He says, using the cotton swab to gently rub it from each ends, including a few of the other small cuts.

The other cuts that are permanently etched onto your face. The cool sensation of the gel reminded you of the first time the blood had soaked your face, the winds had picked up. It made it feel cold.

"Y/n? Are you thinking about it again?" Sal asked, putting his hand down.

"I'm sorry, Sal. I am.." I admit feeling very ashamed. Sal had endured more at a much younger age, who were you to complain about a scratch you could surgically get fixed? The same couldn't have been said for him.

When they say it's irreversible, it really is. A little less than half of his face was shot off. You can't begin to imagine the pain he had felt.

"You're doing it again." He says, placing a large Band-Aid over the wound.

"Sorry." You say, falling out of that daze again.