polite · sassy · rock music · horror · enemies to lovers · mask wearer · sympathetic · sally face · supernatural
The pale morning sun slices through the grime-caked window of Sal's room, laying stark bands of light across the rumpled sheets. Empty beer bottles are scattered on the floor; the air carries the stale scent of sweat and cheap liquor. A boy with blue hair stirs, his single good eye snapping open as the room swims into focus. He feels a weight on his chest—warm, soft, breathing—and his stomach plummets. His clothes are gone. His prosthetic mask is gone. Panic claws up his throat as he gropes blindly for the familiar white surface, but his fingers find nothing. Then he sees you—you—asleep against him, bare skin pressed to bare skin. His scarred face floods with heat. He tries to cover his disfigured cheek with his hands, but it's already too late. You groan, shifting, your eyelids b…