The One That Understands Me | A Zanvis FF [COMPLETE]

Chapter XXXXII - Help.

~Zane's PoV~

I unwantingly open my eyes, as I had left my curtain open, and light was flooding in my room, invading it. I grumble, rolling over to face away from the light.
I feel like I'm forgetting something.
   Then the memories of yesterday come pouring back into my head like a tsunami, and honestly I get taken back a little. But after thinking about it again, I strengthen myself and get out of bed. I soon realize that I had gone to bed in my regular clothes, so I make sure to pick out new clothes and take a fresh shower.
   After I ready myself, I take a good look in the mirror. I'm wearing my striped sweater, one I haven't had on in a while. I wanted to put on something to counter the shades of grey on my top half, so I have on light blue pants. I decide not to take my usual checkered shoes, and instead choose some plain dark ones. I can't really tell what color they are.
   I steady myself, fix my ruffled hair, and grab my things and start to head out. I pass Garroth, as Laurance isn't here -- probably left early to work. He's making himself a breakfast burrito. He goes into work later, as it's about ten now.
   "Where are you off to so determined?" My older brother says, chuckling like he told a mildly funny joke.
   "Um, no where?" I shrug, my voice going higher by the end of it, making it sound more like a question than a statement.
   "Yeah, because a Zane like you goes no where with a face like that." He muses, a smile on his face. He's definitely noticed me going out more, and probably wants to know where.
   I huff, "Let's just say, I need to make amends." I only see his face morph into confusion before I open the door and leave. The fresh air greets me, and before I know I'm walking straight to the house next to ours.
   The trip is quickly over, and I find myself missing how easy it was just to walk here. I'm about to be confronted with the difficult task of my mission: actually doing what I came to do. I have to talk to him, I have to sort things out. I can't just have it end like this.
   I close my eyes, and ring the doorbell. I never knew how one simple push could take up so much courage. I brace myself for whoever comes to the door first, as it could easily be Travis, and it could easily get extremely awkward. I'm afraid, I know that, but I force myself to stay. I can't go off running now. I'm in too deep.
   The doorknob jiggles a little, and I gold me breath. But soon enough I see blue hair, and I now I'm safe; at least for the time being. The held in breath escapes my lips silently.
   "Oh, Zane?" Dante says as he looks at my, almost confused even. And in all honesty he has the right to be. I hardly ever come to visit out the blue. Never, really, not that I can recall. The only time I've been here recently is when the group decides to hang out together. Never on my own accord.
   "Uh, hello." I say rather awkwardly.
   That's a great start.
   "'Sup." He regains his casual vibe. Then after a small moment of silence, he says again, "Soo, um, not to be rude or anything, but why exactly are you here?"
   "Oh, I came to see Travis." I say slowly, unsure of how to word anything from here on out. "I, uh, need to talk to him."
   "Ohhh," he nods, then his face shows some mix of understanding and a slight hint of pride. He smiles like he heard an inside joke only he knows. "Ohh, okay, I got you." He says, his voice slighter higher pitched. I feel like I should know what he's talking about, I feel left out of something. What does he know?
   "Oh, I got you." He starts walking backwards, still facing me, his fingers in the shapes of guns. Then he stops with the strange position and goes to sit on the couch, like he didn't do anything strange. "Travis is upstairs in his room. Second door to the right. Let's see if you can find him in that mess of a room." He gets comfy, folding his arms and leaning his head back on them, enjoying his show.
   I'm honestly a little concerned because of his reaction, but I go in the house anyways. I close the door behind me and sneak upstairs, not wanting to make much noise. Once I'm on the second floor, I find Travis's door and stand right in front of it.
   The door itself intimidates me. The fact that I'm here alone with no support intimidates me. Everything about this situation intimates me.
   I stand there for a bit, once again building my courage up. It takes me a lot longer than earlier st the house door, because this time I know is Travis who has to answer. I take a deep breath.
   I knock on the door.
   A few tense moments pass, nearly suffocating me.
   "Not now, Dante." I hear Travis call from inside. He seems annoyed. It's the same type of tone he had when we were talking yesterday.
   I stay quiet, deciding what to say, and look down.
   "Dante?"
   "It's not Dante." I say finally, looking back up. "It's me. Zane."
   Now it's his turn to be quiet. Now it's his turn to decide what to say. I stand there patiently, waiting for a response.
   "What do you want?" He says, forced gentleness in his voice. So much for trying to sugar coat anything.
   "I want to talk to you Travis." I say in my most sincere tone. I want him to know I'm genuine.
   "...Come in."
   I slowly open the door, and poke my head in. The room itself is dark, the curtains closed and no light on, other than a dimmed down one on his bedside table. The area is also pretty messy. I knew he was messy, but not to this scale. Clothes are literally scattered across his floor, and things lazily thrown onto any surface. I look at his bed and realize he was bundled in the tangled covers of his bed. Only his upper half is showing, and from that I can tell he hasn't gotten out of bed. His hair is a rat's nest, wild with strings going every which way. He's wearing a white muscle shirt.
   I step fully in, unsure if I should close the door. Something in my head tells me I should be with him in his room with the door closed. I look at him, asking him with my gaze if I should have it closed, and he motions for me to close it. I look nervously back at the door, and shut it. I look back at him, and then around the room. There is no other place to sit than on his bed, sure he has a desk but no chair to it. He notices my inner struggle and sighs, sitting up then patting in front of him. I walk over to his bed and sit down awkwardly.
   He looks at me with his emerald green eyes.
   "So? You said you wanted to talk." He says blandly.
   "I... did." I say, "look, I can just sense you already don't want to talk to me or want me to be here, but we need to figure things out. I'm just so confused."
   Travis sighs, and softens a bit, "Yeah. Honestly, me too." He laughs for the first time in a while that I've heard him, but even the laugh was dry, forced emotion.
   "I don't even know where to start. There's just so many things that happened." I stare back into his eyes, a wave of confidence flowing through me. "Like the almost kiss we had on our date."
   His eyes widen a tad bit, surprised that I had the courage to say it out loud, and so soon in the conversation, too. I know it's been on both of our minds, but neither of us had the guts to say it. Now, one of us does, just because he's fed up with all the secrecy and fact that there's no communication.
   "Uh, yeah.. there's that." He shy away, looking to the side. If I'm not mistaken, I can see a slightest bit of a pink hue dusted across his cheeks. I suppose he's pretty embarrassed about that. But I'll let it slide, as I am too.
   "It's just that... I know it didn't actually happen.. but..." I keep trailing off, and in my mind I get prepared to say: but what if it did. Would that have changed anything?
   "Can we maybe not talk about that subject? I mean, I know we should talk it out and everything, but right now," he pauses, "I'm not in the best position to talk about it." He folds his arms close to his body, something I would do to signify I'm not entirely comfortable with something. He must have picked it up from me. Or perhaps I've just never seen this side of Travis. Maybe we have more in common than what meets the eye.
   "Uh, right, sorry. Maybe not." I fiddle with my thumbs, another anxious habit of mine. "But, if we won't talk about that, then we have to talk about why not."
   "What do you mean?" Travis asks slowly.
   "I mean that why have you been acting this way? I know it's not because you're sometimes not a 'happy-go-fucking-lucky' person," I say, using his words from yesterday, "but, something's genuinely bothering you." I make sure to add concern into my voice, as, truthfully, I am.
   "It's nothing." He answers a little too quickly, his tone deep like he was repressing a certain emotion: anger.
   "No, it's not, and I'm not leaving until you tell me. I know your type, because I'm that type. I won't tell unless they annoy me half to death, so that's what I'm gonna do." I say, my quest still definitely in motion.
    "Well, you might be like that, but I'm not, so you might as well save your time." He gruffs, clearly getting annoyed. He has his arms crossed not as a sign of insecurity or being uncomfortable, but now as a way to cope with contained rage.
    "I told you, I'm not going anywhere." He can be stubborn, but I can be too.
    "Well, I guess it's going to be pretty silent." He looks to the side, unhappy with my decision to stay and annoy him.
    "Why can't you just tell me? I get that we haven't been friends for as long as just about anyone on this street, but I'm here now, and I want to help. I'm really worried about you, Trav. This isn't you." I use the shortened version of his name for the first time.
   "It's not like you could help, either way."
   "Well I can't help if I don't know." I say quickly after his sentence. I'm ready for what he has to say, and I can argue with him all day.
   "Why do you want to know so much?!" He raises his voice, probably to scare me off.
   "Because I care about you Travis!" I shout back, loud enough for maybe even Dante to hear, but not enough to escape the house. "And I don't like to see you hurting." I reach over to place a hand on his forearm. "Please."
   He looks down, and I'm unable to see his face clearly. His pale grey locks cover the upper part of his face. But I can tell, the two halves of him are fighting in him on what to say. It's silent.
   "I thought after all this time, the hurt would go away. But it hasn't." His voice is small, weak. My eyebrows furrow in concern. Travis stifles a sniffle, and his shoulders jump.
   Oh shit.
   I scoot a little closer to him, saying, "Travis, what is it?"
   "Thirteen years. Isn't that enough to heal?" He looks up, and I see tears in his eyes. I've never seen him like this before.
   "Travis?"
   "It's my mom. She died on this very day thirteen years ago." He sniffles, "That's a pretty long time don't you think? And I'm still moping around and crying." He laughs dryly once again, tears now spilling down his cheeks.
   "What? No, Travis, this is your mom we're talking about, right? Look, I might not have known her, but she couldn't have been that bad if she had you." I say tenderly. Oh Irene, I'm getting a little too mushy. Why did I have to fall for him?
   "Yeah, but still--"
   "No buts. It's okay to hurt, even after decades. You miss her. If I were you if be the same." I smile, trying to comfort him.
   "I.. I just miss her... so much." He says in between hiccups. Each minute he got more emotional. I don't like seeing him like this. It make my soul ache.
   Without thinking, I get closer to Travis, and wrap my arms around him. It must be just an instinct to want to comfort another. He eases in slowly, probably unsure because I never hug anyone on my own. But this is an exception. Travis meekly grabs at the bottom of my sweater to steady himself, as his small whimpers are muffled by my shoulder.
   It feels good, being here for him. But this makes me notice something. Even though we've been talking and have been friends for a couple months, there's some things I still don't know about him, like today about his mom. I could infer that his mom had died, but that's about it.
   I rub circles into his back to calm him down, and for the most part it seems to work. He soon gets quieter and quieter.
   I want to get to know him more. I want to be better friends with him. I want to be the person he can come to with things like this, even if I'm the last one to be friends with him. That's my new mission.
   Our relationship may not be perfect, but we can heal it together.

Word count: 2415
So yeah that was what was bothering our poor Trav.
I dunno if I did it too much or maybe too little, but I guess??
And don't worry, your heart strings may have been pulled the wrong way, but soon, they'll be pulled the right way ;) just trust me
Live, Love, Lapis, wish y'all good day or night. Bye, my wondrous Gems!