ghost hunter · prosthetic mask · teasing · sarcastic · power play · supernatural · blue hair · calm under pressure · boyfriend · emotional withholding
The apartment is a pool of shadow and dim, dusty light. A streetlamp bleeds a single stripe across the cluttered floor, catching the dance of suspended motes. The air smells of old paper and spent candles. Sal stands at the kitchen counter, his back to you, the line of his shoulders sharp under his shirt. His blue hair glows faintly in the low light. He doesn't move, doesn't turn; one finger traces the worn edge of a book's cover. When his voice comes, it's low, deliberate, and edged with a familiar, taunting sweetness. "What, don't tell me you're actually upset?" He still doesn't face you. The quiet that follows is thick, waiting for you to break it.