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Sal could still recognize him just by frame and posture alone. Whether it was because he’d been pavloved into knowing what could cause pain or something else, Sal didn’t give much thought as to why.
The shades of purple Travis always chose to wear helped a bit though, he’d have to admit. But now those same shades only helped to exemplify the new coloring choice of his hair.
“It’s-… Different.” Sal’s words tripped out of his mouth before he realized they were about to fall.
Sal felt breathless for reasons he just couldn’t place when he had finally spoken. Not breathless like when he was kneed in the gut by Travis and the air ran from his lungs. Not breathless like he had run the mile for gym and his body burned in protest likely fueled by his diet of convenience store food and snacks he could slip under his prosthetic.
Breathless like everything in his body stopped all at once, just so his heart was allowed a pitiful skip on one of its beats.
Sal could see just how choppy it was in the back from behind perfectly well, but wow, it was that much worse from the front. His forehead was further exemplified by the mess he made of his bangs and dye still stained the edges where hair halted at the edges of his skin. Travis’s glare pierced him, his voice cutting along with it.
“What?”
Sal realized just how hot and humid it was getting underneath his prosthetic. He was used to that feeling, but now, the way it felt had changed several degrees.
He brought his hand down that was motioning with a point at Travis’s hair. How long had that been up? He hadn’t even noticed when his body had moved of its own accord.
“Oh, sorry, I forgot that you’re allergic to talking to people.” Sal gave a perfunctory wave in dismissal, stepping ahead to get to class. He wasn’t interested in having both him and Travis late via an argument or something else that’d get them a detention. Sal swallowed, his throat tensing as he spoke up to speak again.
“My bad.” It was a half-assed apology which worked in his favor, considering that he wasn’t sorry. It felt more like an apology to himself, saying sorry he couldn’t say more, saying sorry that he couldn’t look more, saying sorry for things he hadn’t conceptualized yet. Why was he bothered by Travis’s flippant response so much today?
“Only to you,” Travis spat back, though Sal didn’t bother to look back. He already knew how his face would mold, sneering so hard there’d be a little wrinkle for the next few minutes, baring his teeth.
The second Sal turned the corner, Sal felt a knot form in his chest, intertwining and tangling his heart, guts, and any other organs that were trapped in it.
Travis made a change.
Sal had never wanted to undo the bottom buckle on his prosthetic before just for fresher air before. His hands tingled in energy and face felt singed with heat. There were so many thoughts in his head about how Travis did something for himself, how he’s growing, how weirdly pretty he was for being a bully, how he could probably scoop Sal up with ease. He wanted to go back and tell Travis something, anything.
Instead, he kept walking forward to his next class, still thinking about how charming Travis’s new, horrible haircut and dye job looked. His face felt hot.