Two males and a female were speaking. Their voices were muffled to the point where she couldn't recognize them. Her weakened body laid upon a cushioned surface that smelled lightly of cologne and marijuana.

Violet had never felt worse. Every last ounce of energy had been ripped from her body, leaving her in a rather pained state. Her head was pounding like it never had before. It didn't help that the voices of whoever was in the room with her were clearing up. They were hurting her ears.

"Mom, I swear I'm telling the truth!" A baritone voice insisted.

"I've seen it too, Lisa," another added.

"That's enough you two," the woman snapped. "Violet's unwell. Worry about her, not your little demon fantasy."

It was Larry, Sal, and Lisa. Violet forced herself to open her eyes, taking in her surroundings. Sure enough, she was in Larry's bed. His grey sheets were laid neatly over her and a cold rag had been placed on her forehead. The others were huddled by the radio in an effort to give her space.

Sal turned to look at her, his blue eyes filled with worry. When he noticed that she was awake, he nudged Larry and slowly approached her.

"How ya feelin', dude?" Larry asked, wincing.

She hummed.

"You're gonna be just fine, sweetie," Lisa assured her as she stepped toward the door to leave. "Get some rest. Don't be afraid to ask the boys for whatever you need."

Sal adjusted the rag on her head. "Lisa told your parents that you were catching up on homework with us so they wouldn't worry."

Violet wanted to thank all three of them but could hardly find the energy to open her mouth. Her eyes were struggling to stay open with the searing headache she had. She looked from Larry to Sal several times before letting herself focus on the calming blueness of Sal's hair.

"Do you remember what happened?" He inquired.

Of course, she remembered. She didn't want to, but she did. How she made it from the hallway floor to Larry's room was unbeknownst to her. At least she made it here alive.

"Mm-hmm."

"I'm so sorry, man," Larry sighed. "I tried to protect you. You just...passed out."

She frowned at him as if to say that there wasn't a reason to be sorry. He could've ran off and tried to save himself, but instead, he guarded her. It took a lot of bravery for a person to do something like that. Violet was beyond grateful for him, even if he couldn't prevent her from passing out. She couldn't begin to fathom what would've happened if he wasn't there. Without that tiny feeling of security she got from his protection, the situation could've been much worse.

"Do you need anything?" Sal asked, placing a warm hand on her shoulder.

"No..." She rolled her head onto its side so her chin hovered over his hand. She didn't want him to move it.

He didn't.

> > >

A few hours later, Violet had regained some of her strength and insisted on moving to the couch so Larry could have his room back. By then, it was almost midnight. Her dad had texted her and said she had to be home by tomorrow so she wasn't in any rush to get back.

After settling her down on the couch, Larry brought her a pillow and blanket before heading into his bedroom to go to sleep. He made Sal swear to take care of her until she went home.

"You look a lot better," he told her, kneeling at her side. "Do you feel better?"

"Kinda," Violet rasped. Her head still hurt quite badly, but it had improved over the past few hours.

"I was worried about you..."

A small smile eased its way onto her face. "You don't have to worry about me, Sal."

"Sure I do. You're my friend."

Without a warning, the blue-haired boy took her hand into his, brushing his thumb over her smooth skin. His touch was so delicate that she could hardly feel it, making her heart flutter. She felt her face heat up as a rosy blush dusted her cheeks.

"Thanks for looking after me, Sally Face," she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

"You're welcome, Violet Face."

For quite some time, the two sat together in a comfortable silence. Sal didn't let go of Violet's hand. He liked how it felt to hold it. Her skin was without imperfections; no scars, no calluses, not even a bruise. Normally, he'd envy someone like her, but all he could do now is admire her. Of all the people in the entire world, she was letting Sal Fisher hold her hand.

"Sal?" Violet breathed, her tired eyes meeting his once again.

She looked so pretty. "Yeah?"

"Can you smile?"

"I-I, uh...yeah, I guess so," the boy stammered. For once, he was grateful for his mask. He'd certainly die of embarrassment if Violet could see the deep shade of red that his cheeks turned.

"I want to see your smile some day."

"Why?"

Violet pulled his hand closer to her. "I think you'd have a contagious one."

All he could think to do was thank her, which he did. It wasn't uncommon for people to want to see him without the mask, but not for the reason Violet had. All people cared about were the scars. What did they look like? Where did they come from? Nobody's ever asked about his smile before. Part of him wanted to rip his mask off and show her the biggest smile he could muster just to make her happy. Unfortunately, the chance of scaring her was still there.

It would always be there.