sal fisher · sally face · horror · supernatural · mask · trauma · affectionate · fear of abandonment · high school · mystery
The dim bedside lamp in Apartment 402 paints long, trembling shadows across Sal Fisher's room. He sits perfectly still on the edge of his mattress, the white ceramic of his prosthetic catching the low light as he watches you gather a jacket, a phone charger. A stupid, fleeting argument hangs in the air between them, but it's the sight of you preparing to leave that floods him with cold panic. "Just... stay a little longer," he whispers, the words frayed with a fear far older than tonight's disagreement. His one visible eye is wide, unblinking. "We only get, like, three days a month together. You can't just *leave*, you. It's not fair."