Travis was already in a bad mood when he got home. School had been pretty bad that day. He had completely zoned out during science, and he had no idea what was going on, and he had to do a presentation for history, which downward spiraled into having a panic attack in the bathroom. Not to mention that his dad had been a bit more violent than usual. He was emotionally exhausted and didn't know how much else he could take.
But of course, when Travis walked in, there was his mom, there to greet him. Travis loved his mom, she was probably the only sane family member he had left. But, he still resented her for some things. Mostly for staying with his father.
"How was your day sweetie?" She asked kindly.
"Fine." It was short, and snappy, indicating that he didn't want to talk right now. But regardless, Mrs. Phelps was persistent.
"Is everything okay? You seem upset."
"I'm fine mum. Just frustrated."
"Well what are you frustrated with? I'm sure I can help-"
"Everything mum!" Travis yelled. "Everything is frustrating. Everything is weird. And I'm sick of it! I'm sick of failing class, I'm sick of having nervous breakdowns every time I have to talk to someone, and I'm sick of dad trying to control me!" Travis let all the anger that had been building up bubble to the surface, and overflow into his words. "And you know what? I'm also sick of you!" Travis' mum had a very concerned look on her face.
"I'm afraid I don't understand Travis." Travis rolled his eyes.
"Of course you don't! But you should! Because after all this time, after everything he's done to us, you still stay with him! At any point, you could've left him, gotten a divorce even! And yet you do nothing! Don't you realize how bad it is?" Travis was done. He couldn't even manage another word. His throat felt like someone had cut it. He looked up at his mum, only for him to immediately be hit by a massive amount of guilt.
Her eyes were filled with unshed tears, she was shaking. Travis should have known better, he shouldn't have let his temper get the best of him, that's when he made his worst mistakes. "Mum, I-"
"Travis, go to your room." Her voice was barely above a whisper. But Travis could tell that he really did need to leave. So, he ran upstairs, and into his bedroom. As soon as the door closed behind him, he collapsed. He felt horrible. No, worse than that.
Why did he have to yell at her? He knows that she doesn't like that. And she did nothing wrong in the first place, it was a difficult situation they were both in. His mother wasn't the villain, even if she was, Travis was no better than her. Actually, if that was anything to show for, he was no better than his dad. He let the guilt drown him. He deserved this, didn't he?
Eventually, he was able to move himself to his bed. Travis stared blankly at the ceiling. He was at a loss for emotions. He had used so many of them today, he was tired. He felt numb. Sometimes, when he was alone, he wished he were numb. Numb to the physical pain his father brought on, numb from the mental pain he experienced every day. But now that he knew what it actually felt like, he hated it.
He moved without thinking. He got up, unplugging his phone from the charger, and heading downstairs. His mind was grey, not a single thought crossed his mind. But he knew where he was going. When he went downstairs to leave, he heard his mum in the kitchen, but she didn't acknowledge his presence. He pulled on his shoes and left the house.
He regretted not bringing a jacket as the cold wind flew by, making him shiver, but he just kept walking. He didn't want to be anywhere near his house.
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By the time he got there, he was majorly second guessing himself. 'What kind of plan was this?' Addison Apartments loomed above him, looking more intimidating than the last time he was here. Then again, last time the context was a bit different.
The trip in the elevator going up to the fourth floor was agonizingly slow. Even the calm elevator music seemed distorted. When he reached apartment 402, he felt paralyzed with his hand hovering just about to knock. He took a deep breath, and knocked. The three sharp knocks almost scared him.
He waited twenty seconds, forty seconds, a minute. He was beginning to think no one would answer. He was about to leave, when the door abruptly opened, causing Travis to jump, stumbling, and just catching himself before he could fell.
"Travis? What are you doing here?" Sal was standing in the doorway. He had his vibrant blue hair down, and it seemed like it hadn't been brushed in forever. His shirt had the Sanity Falls logo on it, and seemed to swallow him whole. It was probably Larry's. But Sal looked Travis up and down, and seemed to notice something was wrong. "Come in, you seem cold."
Travis was hesitant, wondering if this had been the right thing to do. But cold was an understatement, and there was no way he was going home. So, he stepped into Sal's apartment.
He had never actually seen Sal's apartment. They had always met up at school, or the library, sometimes the mall, but never at there own places. Sal's apartment was small, and kind of cluttered, but it was nice. It was a lot more welcoming than Travis' pristine house, which seemed more like a museum than a house that people lived in.
Sal sat on the couch, motioning for Travis to sit with him, which he did. The sofa was kind of itchy, but Travis enjoys running his fingers along the patterns of stitching that ran up and down. He could tell Sal was looking at him, but he didn't want to make eye contact.
"So, what made you come here?" Sal asked. It was such a casual question, but Travis' brain immediately started panicking. 'What am I supposed to tell him?'
"I uh, had a fight with my mom." His voice was still tired from yelling, and every word felt like sandpaper ripping at his throat. "It was pretty bad." Travis had resorted to bringing his knees to his chest, sitting as far away from Sal as possible.
"That doesn't sound fun, would you like to talk about it?" Travis thought for a moment, before shaking his head. "Okay, well, would you like a hug?" He was caught off guard by the question. The only person he had hugged before was his mum, and well, you know how that's going. But despite that, he nodded his head.
Sal scooted closer and wrapped his arms around Travis. Sal was very warm, and it was nice. Travis felt the tears build up in his eyes. He hated crying, it made him feel vulnerable. But he felt comfortable with Sal. So, he just kind of let it happen.
Sobs racked his body, tears falling freely down his face. Travis had his head rested on Sal's shoulder. Sal stroked Travis' hair, which helped. They just sat there. Travis was scared to let go, he felt safe. But eventually, his tears ran dry, and he sat up, wiping his face with his sleeve.
"Sorry." His voice sounded just as exhausted as he felt.
"Hey," Sal rested his hand on Travis', making his heart beat fast. "You don't need to apologize, your emotions are totally valid, and you shouldn't feel guilty expressing them." Travis finally made eye contact with Sal. Dark brown met bright blue. And they both burst out laughing. Yeah it was weird, but it felt right. They laughed until they were out of breath. Travis felt more at ease than he had in years.
After a good couple minutes, they settles down, pure euphoric laughter turning into light chuckles here in there. Finally, Sal spoke up.
"Well, it's getting late. I'm gonna make us some tea, your voice sounds shot, than we can go to bed." Sal got up, heading towards the apartment's small kitchen. When he came back, he was holding two mugs, and placed one in front of Travis, sitting back down with his own.
They talked for a while, aimlessly really. School, books, movies, they hopped from one subject to the next. They had been talking for so long, they barely even notice when the clock turned to 10:00pm. Realizing it was late, they took the mugs to the sink, and Travis followed Sal to his room.
"Well, I'll sleep on the couch, you can take the bed, goodnight Travis-"
"W-wait," He said nervously. "U-uh, we can share the bed, only i-if you're comfortable with that of course." Sal laughed.
"Alright, I'll be right back. You probably won't fit in my clothes but I'm sure you could borrow some of my dad's." And with that, he walked out. Travis sat on the bed, thinking about what he said. When the realization hit him, he went bright red. 'Did I really just say that?' He was still drowning in embarrassment when Sal returned.
"These might be a bit big, but it'll be okay for tonight." He said, tossing them to Travis. "Bathroom is just down the hall, to your left." Travis nodded and went to go change.
When he came back, Sal was on the bed, playing with Gizmo. It was twin bed, but there was just enough room for both of them (plus Gizmo, who insisted on sleeping at Sal's feet). But even thought they were practically pressed against each other (which was making Travis' heart beat incredibly quick), it was nice.
Sal was facing away, having taken off his mask. Travis couldn't hear anything but the air conditioner running in the background and the slow breathing of the boy asleep beside him. Travis felt at peace. He moved his hand so it was around Sal's waist, pulling him closer. His eyelids felt heavy, and as he drifted into sleep, he felt safe, knowing that Sal would be there for him.
"Night Sal." Then, it all went dark.
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Word Count: 1728