#thread: travis.

[itchose]

@kindrewind 🌲 "don't have to stay here for long, you know. kick me out when you need to. put me to work, too — i'm good for it."

[itchose]

@scatcrccio 🌲 "i can still tell when you're scared."

[itchose]

@hienous 💬 "you’re happy? you’re allowed to be, in case you didn’t know."

he hasn't used that word himself, afraid of the weight of it, like as soon as he says it, it'll all fade away, but when she says it — the person he trusts most in the world — he realizes that's what this feeling is. happy. he's told perry that he's at peace with him, that he's comfortable, that he feels like he belongs— all things that are rear for him, and he's starting to understand what that feeling is, one he hasn't felt in so long, and one, just as she's said, he's never felt like he's allowed to feel.

he nearly starts to smile, but despite her permission, he feels the guilt wash over him, not just of his own self deprecation, but of that one person that is still between he and travis. mikayla's already sworn not to give away his location to nat, and now this just feels like more secrets she's forced to keep. he lifts his cowboy hat from his head, resting it against his chest. ❝  you're not mad at me? ❞ he asks before anything else. ❝  i know it's hard, not... telling her anything, ❞ he says, as if his relationship with mikayla doesn't matter to her as much, even though they've formed their own relationship beyond her. ❝  it's complicated, making you meet him, i know. just think he's going to be in my life for a while, you know? ❞ or is that too much hope for travis? ❝  so it matters to me, what you think of him. ❞ he tries to anticipate how she'll feel about it— if her own still-fresh bitterness with the end of her marriage, added to her loyalty to her best friend, will be taken out on perry, but he still trusts mikayla more than anything.

[itchose]

@surviveds 💬 "just relax. i’m right here with you. you see?"

he reaches out for perry before he can stop himself from doing it, his fingers clutching the material of perry's shirt to ground himself as he tries to focus on perry's voice— because perry doesn't need to tell him to relax for the tone of his voice to do the trick on its own. it's something that travis has come to understand lately, that being around perry gives him a sense of tranquility he can't remember feeling before.

travis takes a deep breath, his eyes shutting tightly for a moment before he opens them with hopes to not have made a fool of himself, or to have revealed too much about himself that might just scare perry away. when he opens his eyes to look back at him, he gives him a small nod, trying to brace himself.

he's never done anything like this here before — a sudden panic in the middle of his chores startling his horse and forcing travis to run off out of shame, embarrassment, and that familiar feeling of being trapped, even though he's never felt like that here. this has been a safe place, he has been a safe place, and more than anything, he's desperate to tell perry that, to not let him think that any of this is him or his family. it's just travis, shaky, uncertain, lost.

he doesn't say anything, only allowing himself to bury his head in the crook of perry's neck, silently begging him to just let him stay here for a moment— a small hint that tells perry he's starting to relax, and he wants him here.

[itchose]

@lingeringscars 💬 "if you’re waiting for it to make sense, it’s not going to."

he doesn't look up at her, only keeping his eyes on the frayed edges of his shorts, the rest recently ripped away as they prepare for summer. there's been a shift in energy lately, not just a feeling of optimism but in a new level of adaption that only makes travis feel more and more out of place with each passing day. his fingers pick apart at the edges as he gives a small nod of acknowledgment, which feels more comfortable than telling her that she's right, he is. he wishes he could hide away in his hut, the same way he would've back home in his bedroom in an attempt to block out the rest of the world, but it doesn't feel the same here —  not when his hut just reminds him of how alone he is and how much he's lost.

he used to feel like sharing a bedroom with his brother was a prison, desperate for the day he was finally free to be on his own, able to lock him out whenever he wanted. he feels so ashamed of the joy he felt when that day came, now wishing he could share his hut with his baby brother for even one day.

❝  you don't have to do that, ❞ he says after a long moment of silence, finally glancing up to her, then away again. ❝  you don't have to... try to help. ❞ it's not spoken in the same way he would've spoken to her or any of the others months ago, when they were first stranded and he felt like he had to be on the offense at any given moment. it's softer now, because he almost feels guilty, like she's wasting her time trying to help him when he knows others need it more. that's not entirely true, he just doesn't know how to accept it otherwise. ❝  i know it won't. ❞ but that doesn't make it okay, the strain in his voice making it obvious he knows that, too.

[itchose]

@kindrewind 💬 "it’s always complicated shit with family, you know? they have a funny way of showing they give a shit sometimes."

there’s something about van that has often allowed travis the comfortability of simply sitting in silence with them,    at least in a way that hasn’t alway felt like they’d be impatient or burdened by his lack of response —   because more often than not,  he’s found that it’s better when he doesn’t say anything. 

but there’s also something about van that makes him feel safe enough to speak,  too,  so when they talk,  and it hits a little too close to home — literally — he lets out a breath,  fingers swiping at the bangs that had fallen over his brow as he braces himself to actually process that for himself,  too.  

though he’s barely allowed himself to swing in the air the entire time he’s sat here,  he slows,  kicking at the gravel under his feet as he turns to van,  grip tightening around the chain of the swing.   ❝  yeah,  ❞   he says,  tone heavy with familiarity,  and he feels an urge to agree outright—  but he has to work himself up to it,  and he knows that van already understands what he’s lost,  how that could all weigh on his home life now.  

it’s easier to focus on them rather than himself.

❝  have you thought about where you’re gonna go?  ❞    he asks,  actually curious,  because he’s thought about leaving himself — a constant battle between feeling like he owes his mother the only family she’s got left versus knowing he’ll never be able to look her in the eye.   ❝  that’s what you want…   right?  ❞    he takes a beat, hoping he’s not wrong.   ❝  your mom,  you—  you don’t want to stay there.  ❞   it’s more of a statement than a question,  even though he can’t know for sure,  only going off of an assumption based on his own feelings. 

[itchose]

he's spent more time looking in the mirror lately than he has in years, picking apart his appearance, convincing himself that he's not ready for this. it's his first job interview that actually feels real, like something he might actually be able to keep, as long as he doesn't fall apart this time. there's only one person he trusts to help him prep, despite how embarrassing it feels, too, because maybe a decade ago, she would've been the first person to make fun of him for how nervous he was— but now, she's the one he trusts most.

❝  could you help me? ❞   the words come out hesitantly, like he already regrets them, but he keeps pushing forward anyway, because @manslaught isn't going to let him drop it there. he rolls his eyes, mostly to himself, before he finally goes on. ❝  my hair's just-— ❞ he hates talking about his appearance, and he would've preferred just taking care of it himself, but that would only risk him looking worse. ❝  it's a fucking mess. gets in my eyes. ❞ intentional, usually, because it means he can hide; it just won't work for his interview. ❝  — could you cut it for me? ❞

[itchose]

he's relieved that they're finally headed away from the party, even more so than he thought he would be at the beginning of the night. running into mikayla's ex-girlfriend was the last thing he expected, and he can tell @manslaught is shaken, but they've mostly avoided that subject, and he's not sure how to go about it now. he just knows that he was terrified when he saw taissa walking towards her, knowing that it was bound to hurt mikayla in some way. she didn't storm off, nor did she run off with her, and he assumes both are a good sign. still, he lets the silence take over between them, assuming he should wait for her to be comfortable enough to talk about it, until he realizes that maybe she needs an opening. he's never been good at this; even their visits in prison, few words were shared between them, but the connection was still there regardless, something he cherished for years and even more now as she's become family.

with a deep breath, his eyes briefly glance over to her, then back to the windshield. ❝  so  .  .  .   are we going to talk about that?  ❞ he mumbles, clearing his throat after a moment as he shifts his weight in his seat awkwardly, hoping she doesn't react poorly, because he wouldn't make her, he just wants to be there for her some way. ❝  or, you could just, i don't know, tell me if— are you okay? ❞