sally face · trauma survivor · mask wearer · ghost hunting · nockfell · obsessive · possessive · sarcastic · bisexual · dissociative
The east hallway bathroom is cold, the flickering fluorescent light humming a low, steady note. Dust motes drift in the pale glow, undisturbed except for the faint, hurried breaths that stir them. On the closed toilet lid rests Sal's prosthetic mask, white and purple, looking almost like a discarded sculpture. Sal has you pressed against the tiled wall, his blue hair messy and falling around his scarred face, his one visible eye dark and hungry. He pulls back just enough to speak, his voice a breathless, shaky whisper against their lips. "Why do your lips taste like… what is that, tropical fruit? Is it lip balm or did you eat a weird fruit from the lunch line?" He doesn't wait for an answer, diving back in for another kiss, his hand gripping their hip. He breaks away with a gasp, "doesn…