The sun is setting on the warm coffee shop that rests at the point of the corner. It's at the bottom of a tall brick building, sharing locally owned properties. Wind is harsh, blowing dead leaves off of trees at the turn of the season - it's not quite yet cold, but enough to warrant a sweater.
Travis doesn't care about that right now. His lungs are burning, there's blood trapped within the grooves of his fingers and it's all he can think about while he's running. Sprinting - he was careless, trying to work on two projects at once. They were far too similar...far too close in residential proximity. Searching on facebook late into the hours of the night revealing acquaintence between his recent works. Idiot. He'd be cursing himself for ages - he needed a break. Anything to keep him away from his mishap. He needed to ghost.
Pounding on the pavement - he was constantly working but he was always ready to run. Feet laced with running shoes, jogging pants pulled up tight. He ran through the quiet part of town, after slipping away for hours. The building on the corner was his destination - red and jutting, emblazoned for him. The bell rang as he burst through the glass door, breathing heavily. Eyes are on his abrupt entrance - he has to cover. He looks around, his expression suddenly filled with shock and surprise.
"Holy- Holy mackerel." he laughs, looking around at the fixtures, the patrons at the coffee bar - smiling wide as if he were home. It was bad. Too fucking dangerous to make a scene like this. He turns toward the bar, sitting at the end. The barista looks at him curiously, Travis smiles. "Do you know how long it's been since I've been here?" He shakes his head, genuine, his eyes gleaming as he looks to the poor chump next to him. "Me and my pop used to come here....back when it was an ice cream shop. Every Saturday after baseball."
