homesick | sal fisher x fem!reader ;; ❞

𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍' & 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍' .26

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╰┈➤ ❝ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : ❞
None
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"Giz-" you sputtered, arms outstretched as you held the chubby feline far from your torso. "Gizmo, stop. We're almost there-!"

The furball shuffled, consistently, as you trudge down the hall. Tonight went...exceptionally well, considering this new found knowledge you had most definitely absorbed.

The peeling wallpaper remained indifferent, the same old interior; regardless of what you had learned transpired beneath it's secretive, thin cover of shame.

It was teetering around three in the morning, much to your displeasure.

Maple was fast asleep, having hit the hay far earlier than you had expected. Crying must've tuckered her out...

Gizmo, however, reverted to the opportunity of the slumbering goth. He'd begun scratching at the window's tinted glass, likely an explanation as to how those earlier cracks of destruction had tarnished the translucent material.

You had tried to ignore it, really. Gizmo was just as persistent as his father, presumably on the search for him as well.

Reluctantly, you rolled out of your makeshift fort both Maple and you had built in child-like awe, gently nudging the goth awake as to alert her of your temporary absence before further action.

You figured she'd be fine. If there was a problem, Chug was always down the hall and would, hopefully, be happy to take Maple in for the time being.

Maple, albeit disoriented, agreed.

Now you voyaged deeper into the dreary hallway, taken aback by Gizmo's sudden protest once you had reached the 4th floor.

He mewled in resistance, struggling to escape your firm grip. Granted, you tried to assert a ground of authority, but to little to no avail. Gizmo maneuvered in such a way that somehow he'd slithered from your grasp; must be from practice, you figured.

Gizmo, and while yes; it was humorous to watch, sprinted back into the elevator, demanding in his own language he be brought elsewhere.

"Giz, I don't have time for this..." You argued to particularly no one, seeming as only you and the feline were up at such an hour. "you came through my window earlier, why can't you just leave through it?"

He rubbed his small, furry head against your pant leg, a plea, no doubt.

"fine, fine..!" You huffed, hoisting the large, furry cat up once again. With deliberate intent, you faced Gizmo towards the elavator panel, hopefully he'd have some sort of answer so you could go the fuck back to bed. "..which one?"

It didn't suprise you, honestly. Gizmo's nose purposely tapped the basement floor's card slot, deliberate as you inserted said plastic object. It wasn't the most absurd thing you've seen and it certainly wouldn't be the last, you assumed.

"If Sal's the one who taught you that, consider me impressed." Gizmo, at this comment, feigned an aura of annoyance, somehow even you could sense.

One thing's for certain, you stared at the depleting numbers showcased about the elevator's doors, intentionally averting your gaze as to avoid the feline's own. This is one self-aware ass cat..

"..Sal is probably looking for you." You murmured, nibbling your bottom lip as Gizmo purred in response. "Fuck, why am I always the one searching him out."

Gizmo snuggled further into your embrace, comfortable, rather content with your presence. Maybe, in some twisted way, it was his way of comforting you.

Still, no audible reply was given. Not like you expected one, anyways. You missed Sal, deeply, but god would it entice the thrill if he sought you out.