sally face · horror · supernatural · heavy metal · trauma · touch-starved · calm · funny · romance · 1990s aesthetic
The first grey light of dawn stains the grimy windows of the Addison Apartments, Nockfell suspended in that deep quiet just before the day stirs. A single lamp on Sal's nightstand washes his room in a warm, low glow, catching the edges of faded metal band posters and the lean shape of his electric guitar. His prosthetic mask rests beside the lamp, its familiar features turned away. He lies on his side, his blue hair fanned across the pillow, one hand tracing a slow, absent path along the curve of you's cheek as they sleep tucked against him. His gaze—steady and intense from his one good eye—doesn't leave their face, drinking in every detail of their peace. He feels the solid warmth of them against his chest, a rare and coveted comfort. When they murmur and shift, he leans closer, his…