Skin (SALLYFACE X (FEMALE)READER)

8. Viscera

*TRIGGER WARNING: VIOLENCE AND SELF HARM*

I took a long moment to collect my thoughts and take deep breath's, in preparation for opening up all my wounds. It was easier said than done, of course.

My mind was scattered. I couldn't form one coherent thought without it being highjacked by my newly developed feelings.

He was just so close. He was tracing little circles in my hand at this very moment. It's making me feel so warm.

Stop it. He doesn't like you like that.

I internally groaned, flitting my eyes up to his. His blue eyes squinted slightly in a smile, patiently waiting for me to be ready.

"I don't even know where to start..." I murmured, slinking down to my pillows and staring at the ceiling.

He stayed in an upright position, and my attention was drawn to how close his jean clad thigh was to my face.

"Do you need me to initiate?" He asked softly, watching me with somber ocean eyes.

I thought for a moment, and decided maybe that would be easiest. "Yes please".

He nodded, and paused to think. I could hear his gentle breathing under his mask. It made my heart flutter.

"What happened to your leg?" He swallowed heavily, almost like he regretted asking. I imagine he feels like a hypocrite, asking me this, when he doesn't like to be asked about his prosthetic.

I gulped before answering. "My pelvis was broken, and it damaged my sciatic nerve". I took a deep breath before connecting our eyes again. "I had to use a wheelchair for awhile. Other bones had been damaged too."

He didn't say anything for a minute, sitting completely still. A stranger would mark it up to carelessness, but I knew better now. He was upset.
"How did that happen? Car accident?" His words left his mouth in an uncertain tone.

I laughed sadly, returning my gaze to the ceiling, drawing the water spots out with my finger. "I wish it was just a car accident". I was so quiet, I wasn't even sure he heard me, but was proven otherwise when he slid down onto his back next to me.

"It wasn't an accident at all".

An audible gulp was heard from Sal. I couldn't look at him, so I just decided to go all out, and show him everything.

He gasped as I pulled my sweater over my head, leaving me in a tank top that stops at my bellybutton. It was certainly not conservative, as you could definitely see cleavage, but I wasn't trying to seduce him.

"I don't let people see these," I traced over the scars on my arm. "Every time I look at them I am reminded of how painful it was".

He stretched out a hand, and I took it, leading his fingertips down the rough texture of scar tissue.

"Familiar," he mumbled to himself. I don't think I was supposed to hear. He was distracted though, so I might as well just say it.

"My parents were murdered". I blurted out quickly, as if saying it fast would hurt less.

Sals widened eyes shot up to mine, full of worry and surprise. "What?" His voice painted his disbelief. I tried to hold the sadness in and shrug, but it bubbled out of me in a broken sob.

"And...I was forced to watch". I pursed my lips, nodding to myself. The moment a tear slipped down my temple, Sal turned his body towards mine, and pulled me into his chest.

"Every time I tried to look away, they would kick me," I sobbed into his shirt, gripping the fabric like my life depended on it. "They made me watch, and-and when I screamed, they cut my face, and when I tried to fight back, they-they threw me onto our glass table so hard, it b-broke my-"