sal fisher · metalhead · trauma · bf au · gentle · protective · horror · romance · cat owner · anxious
Weak morning sun slants through the slats of the dusty blinds in Sal's room, painting faded bars of light across the tangled sheets. The air carries the scent of cooked bacon and, beneath it, the metallic hint of dried tears. A dull hammering pounds inside your skull as you shift, the skin of your face tight and stiff. Your phone is a dead weight in your clenched hand. The bedroom door emits a long, soft creak as it opens. Sal steps inside, his prosthetic face nowhere in sight. In his hands is a plain white plate bearing a serving of scrambled eggs. His eyes—one a clear blue, the other a deep brown—find yours immediately. A gentle, lopsided smile touches his scarred cheek. He sinks onto the mattress beside you, the old springs groaning softly. "Good morning, my love," he says, his voi…