homesick | sal fisher x fem!reader ;; ❞

𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐄 .32

-
╰┈➤ ❝ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : ❞
None
-

Thursday, January 28th, 1994. The sound of a fountain pen puncturing paper did little to muzzle one's thoughts, scribbling furiously into the pale sheet of paper as it reminded you of it's occurrences.

Friday, January 29th, 1994. This day hadn't been forseen yet, due to the fact this was tomorrow.

Would you likely be just as tiresome and restless tomorrow as you were today, as of currently? Shit, it stirred a resounding ache within your head just to consider the possibility.

Saturday, January 30th, 1994. Oh, right. 'The party', as Larry called it.

Excluding today, in all consideration since it was currently 2:51pm and your last period that conducted the school's premises and signaled it's students' departure, Saturday was approximately, in two days.

Forearms cradled the white, thin sheet of paper beneath your weighted chin, the tick tick ticking of the classroom's persistent clock somehow battling your pens' consistency of ink meets paper.

Fuck, what class was this again..? Between the excitement of planning Chug's heartfelt confession to Maple and the unexpected but equally matched, yes, yet again 'confession' from Sal to you? Drained was an understatement.

Peering from your designated seat, the wooden desk that upheld your weak stature protested against the yellowing tiles below, letting it's legs squeal in unpleasant agony.

Mr. Baxley was the classes' Language Arts Teacher. Poems of Shakespeare and Poe adorn the hearty chalkboard behind the elder man's broad shoulders, his rounded, framed glasses expressing both glee and wisdom.

Familiarity uptook this stage of each weekday, often circling back to the mop of auburn beauty 2 rows foward from you, as well as a leafy, green haired individual that sat on your right, closest to the room's doorway.

Chug and Ashley, you were fortunate enough to concur had shared this class with you.

Well, no. Correction, Chug did. Ashley, however, had requested her schedule be tampered with once she caught wind you'd been enduring this grueling, boringsome subject.

To what was pertaining to today's lesson, you hadn't a clue. Sleep was at your fingertips, the brink of exhaustion evident in your posture as you lay, almost pathetically, atop your desktop.

2:54pm was, fortunately enough, what the clock read. Six minutes...only six more minutes I'll have to endure this torture.

Honestly, no matter how much you repeated this reassurance as if a mantra, it proved futile. By the time the clock rang, it's signature call to leave school's premises, you weren't awake to hear it.

In fact, it didn't even seem successful in waking you from the much needed slumber. What a piece of crap.

"y/n?" A voice, silky and patient cooed as they gently cradled your shoulder. They consistently urged you in a soothing manner to rise, purely ready to leave school premises' once you obliged.

Ashley sighed, remorse of having disturbed your nap. "Babe, wake up..school's out. Time to go home.."

Instinctively, you swatted at the intrusion, voice heavily thick with incoherent restlessness. "..5 more minutes.."

"y/n, sweetie, you said that 10 minutes ago..cmon." Ashley reiterated, her manicured nails combing your knotted locks as reluctantly, she pulled a singular strand rather harshly, jolting you awake. "Wake. Up."

"-ow!" Exclaimed you, cradling the follicle that dull with ache. "Ash, what the hell?"

Ashley had taken the liberty of hoisting your assaigned backpack over her feminine shoulder, grunting as it's weight settled. "Get up, you're in no shape to walk home."

A groan of protest slipped from your thin lips, causing the auburn-haired beauty to giggle at the display.

The journey to her vehicle was relenting, in fact, you were on edge consistently. You hadn't seen Sal all day and, knowing your luck, would likely be smothered in the backseat of his maroon 1983 Ford Festiva. Actually, you snickered, that doesn't sound too bad..

Ashley had, unsurprisingly, driven you home as if her vehicle's name was deemed 'Christine'. Reckless as she was, you were home safe as she sped off, bidding you farewell before she had teasingly kissed your cheekbone.

It was odd, in a way. How..hurridly she seemed to act, this particular day. In any case, you still hadn't run into either Sal or Larry which, in a way, frightened you.

Call it intuition, but you could've sworn she had turned left, west. Ashley, however, lived on a desolate street, approximately 10 minutes away from Addison's Apartments by vehicle.

... - Ashley lived on the right side of Nockfell's miniature town, northeast.

As you tread lightly, maneuvering through dull halls and an poorly equipped elevator, sounds of ruckus filtered through the walls. At one point, you'd had even overheard a fearful screams, followed by shouting.

The apartment you reside in was desolate, Maple having returned long ago to her own residency as Melissa & Lucas were currently clocked in at their respective jobs. The building settled, casting an eerie array of silence as, reluctantly, you had smothered your left ear to shelter the thin, drywalls.

To your knowledge, there wasn't a laundry-shoot either public or separate in the complex, the disruption far to loud to of been poor pipelines & sewerage issues. It sounded as if something had forcible *slammed!* into the brick structure's interior, falling farther into the earthly core as they exclaim terror.

For a moment, the elavator shook with protest, halting mere seconds as if to accommodate the sudden incident. Holy shit-, what the fuck was that.

Come to think of it, where the fuck was everyone..?

Sal & Larry had gone unheard of, Todd and Chug had been quite distant. Hell, why was Ashley, of all people, in such a rush?

By the time the elavator obliged, welcoming you to a, presumably, mold-infested floor of your living arrangements, near instantly had the elavtor descended. Jarring as it was, you were perplexed. Likely, someone had been repeatedly demanded the elavator abide by their command, immediately overwhelming the age-old machine to follow suit in their tenants' frustration & irritable demeanor.

Recollecting Maple's former thoughts, you resorted to staying inside your 'lovely' abode.

It irked you, albeit, a bit. Whoever had wanted so badly on the haphazard department of transport had been eager to traverse downward towards the basement level.

While you knew others used the provided laundry washer & dryer combo that reside in the basement, you heavily doubted one was that thrilled to do laundry.

Which, in turn, left you to your final conclusion. It had been either one, Lisa was in a rush which, wasn't to unbelievable.

Or - and only or, Larry was involved. At the very least, whatever the hell was going on included Larry, to some extent.

Whether you had actually wanted to indulge, you refrained, tossing your exhausted body into the pillowed mattress. Instinctively, you groaned, body horizontal as feet dangled off the bedding's edge, kicking on your shoes lazily.

In desperation, you had clutched a feathering pillow, burrowing your skull into the bedsheets as the thick, cold cushion lay atop your head, a poor attempt to drown out the inconsistent rupturing within the thin walls.

└─── °∘☆∘° ───┘