homesick | sal fisher x fem!reader ;; ❞

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 .7

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╰┈➤ ❝ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : ❞
None, not proof-read !
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The rest of the day went by smoothly, a rare occurrence Sal was grateful for.

Lunch soon ended and the rest of the group dispersed along with their peers, dreading next period, whatever it may be. It didn't really matter, nor did he care.

He hadn't stuck around to watch the rest of his classes play out. The pavement was cracked below his cornflower converses and Sal made a point to avoid every imperfections with each step. Thick, hazy fog blanketed the road, decrepit buildings no longer visible in the far distance. The fragmented face that resided on the bluenette's insecurity felt suffocating, reminding him of envy he was ashamed to admit yet suppress.

Sal had skipped class. Actually, he ditched right after lunch.

The girl beside him, nearly throughout the entirety of the period, looked distressed. Soft hands fidget with the sleeves of her hoodie, restlessness evident from beneath her eyes. Sal had first chalked it up as "first day jitters", seeing as the young teen had been struggling in the halls, but he quickly withdrew the conclusion.

You had only begun to squirm once you resided beside him once more. Short and sweet; once he had unbuckled his prosthetic in order to eat. Regardless of his familiarity with social rejection, it still stung.

So, in turn, he left when given the opportunity. Again, no harm done.

He'd keep his distance, if that's what you so desired. Sal could take a hint. You hadn't been uncomfortable before the notion, and once you returned, you grew fretful. It was disheartening but understood, Sal wouldn't push.

The backpack held heavy in his grasps, hoisting it's weight up every so often. Sal knew he could've carpooled with Larry. Hell, Larry would've joined the delinquent action or rather, encouraged it. Unfortunately, the bluenette didn't have the energy for his friend's eagerness.

In times like these, if rejection be from a stranger, to a girl he held a schoolboy crush for in the past; Sal wanted to be alone.

As both Ashley and Larry had mentioned, "I can't be left alone with my thoughts, I need something to pass the time!"..actually, mentioned is the wrong word. More like whine. Sal was the opposite.

Regardless of his mental state, overthinking or not, Sal wouldn't run on the hamster wheel. He wasn't built to last, nothing was, why fight to stay preoccupied when at night, all attempts are futile? He's still left to lie awake, staring at a ceiling that somehow left more questions then answers as daybreak.

Maybe that's why he found himself here, shoes muddied and body jolting with a shiver once a harsh gust of wind howled through his cerulean strands.

He could've gone home, sat with Gizmo or even tried different...alternatives to forget the sting of being shunned once again. But no.

Sal sat at the local park at Lake Wendigo, or rather as she dubbed it, "a glorified, unkempt swamp". The swing below him creaked with each breeze, it's chains rusted over time and on the verge of fracture. Despite it's protest, the bluenette swung slightly whilst immersed in thought.

A canvas of purple and blue clashed, soft pillowed clouds scattered amongst it's sky. Pale, bruised knuckles both clutched and released around the swing's chains, repeating the notion as those very same clouds seemed to take residency inside his skull. The chipped nail polish flaked with each absentminded violent jolt, one ever so similar to your own earlier.