Skin (SALLYFACE X (FEMALE)READER)

11. Mirth

*(Y/N)s POV*

Today was a sweltering seventy eight degrees (which felt more like ninety in this old brick building), despite being late March. I spent most of my Saturday morning rocking a halter tank top and shorts, and standing in front of the freezer so I don't melt.

Michigan weather wasn't much different, but it usually didn't start having weird hot days until mid April. I wiped the sweat off my brow and shut the freezer, before my grandma scolds me when she gets home for thawing out it's contents.

A cold bath sounded quite tempting, but unfortunately the water doesn't get very cold (or hot) in these old apartments.

I lazed my way into my bedroom, and pried my window open. I hoped for some remnants of a breeze, but the air was stagnant; humid. I groaned and flopped onto my bed, pulling out my phone from its hiding place under my pillows.

No notifications. Blegh. Maybe Sals also suffering in this heat, especially with his mask. I can't begin to imagine how sweaty I'd be if I wore a mask.

(Y/N): this heat is unbearable :(

It didn't take long for him to reply, which I won't lie, filled me with giddiness.

Sally: tell me about it

Sally: Gizmo and I are suffering

I sighed, thinking about his fluffy Maine coon in this heat. Poor kitty.

(Y/N): why isn't there any Central Air in this building??? I'm actually dying

Sally: cuz it's old as hell :/

Sally: my dad is gonna put in an ac unit when he gets home at noon

He's getting AC? No fair! My old grandparents enjoy the heat, they say the cold makes their joints ache. Well the heat makes me suicidal.

(Y/N): do you have room for one more???

(Y/N): I'll do anything

Sally: I was already planning on inviting you over, but if you insist >:)

Why do I feel so excited all of a sudden?

(Y/N): oh no I'm so scared ;)

I squealed after hitting send, practically throwing my phone away from me. Was that emoticon too suggestive? Hmm, consider this my first real attempt at flirting, I guess.

My phone buzzes menacingly under my blankets, but I'm far too embarrassed to read his response. Knowing Sal, it's probably just friendly banter, but a small part of me—a hopeful part of me—is screaming a barrage of 'what if's.

And so I bite the bullet, and scramble for my phone. My eyes are squeezed shut as I unlock my screen, and I can only manage a small peek with one eye once the text lights up my phone.

Sally: you should be ;)

Have I died? I feel like I'm having an out of body experience. I read the message over and over, until it sinks in that maybe Sal is flirting back?

No, he's just joking. We're friends. Strictly platonic. Who knew winky faces held so much power?

After about seven straight minutes of rereading his message, I finally relinquish my phone to my nightstand. I can't muster the strength to text back now, on the off chance that I might say something a little too suggestive.

I leave my bed and pace around my room for a moment, trying to think of something to pass the time.
The heat doesn't inspire much motivation, and I end up just standing there like an idiot pulling my top away from my skin, trying my best to dry the sweat building under my boobs.