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knock knock.
knock knock knock.
that's the first thing sal heard when he got up. it was still dark out, the occasional creak of the pipes in the wall could be heard every so often.. alongside the knocking. He wipes his one working eye and glances at the digital clock on his bedside table.
The red light of the digital clock flashed on and off in a pattern. almost 3 AM. Who would be at his door at this hour?
Lazily, he moved his hair out of his face, putting it up in a quick ponytail and stretched before putting his prosthetic on and scurrying towards the pale green door, looking through the peephole to see who was there. He was greeted with the sight of part of a familiar face who was clearly drenched in rain and in his pajamas--which at this point were basically see-through. Sal opens the door, the other boy looks at him. The infamous Travis Phelps. He stood there, in front of Sal's door. Completely drenched from head to toe. What an idiot, thought Sal. He must be freezing his ass off.
"Did you seriously walk all the way here in your pajamas in THIS weather..?" He questioned him, what sort of moron does that? He looks him up and down, Travis' hair is soggy and probably comparable to that of a wet stray mutt. He glances down at his feet. Flipflops. Sal peered his head out of the apartment door and saw the wet footprints leading from the elevator.
"Maybe." Uttered Travis as he fiddled with the hem of his shirt, trying desperately to ignore the boy in front of him and obviously the freezing weather. All he was waiting for was for Sal to shut up for once and let him in.
"You're an idiot, Travis. You know that, right?" Sally Face chuckled and stood aside to let Travis in. "Let's get you dry because my dad will be pissed if anything ends up drenched in water..or like mouldy carpets or something 'cuz of you." They walk off to go fetch a towel for Travis. Finally, Travis stepped in the room. Significantly warmer than the hallways and much less eerie, although the faint buzz of the fluorescent lights wasn't doing the place much justice. Suddenly, he felt fur graze against his ankles and a soft purr, almost loud enough to cover the aggressive fluorescent buzz of shitty, cheaply made lights that only seemed to get louder, he crouched down and pet the large cat behind its ears as it nuzzled into Travis' hand. Soon enough, Sally had come back with a towel for the blond in front of him.
At last, Travis, the previously soaking wet dog of a man, was now dry. Mostly. His hair was still a bit damp but probably not for much longer. They sat on the sofa together for a while, the TV was set to a random channel and once again the large cat was all over Travis and making biscuits on his lap. Gizmo was loving the endless amount of attention Travis was giving him as Sal watched, amused by the sight. A stuck up highschool bully covered in bruises is melting at the fact his stupid fatass cat is purring and kneading all over him. Ironic... and also surprisingly fun to watch. Travis glared at Sal
"What do you think you're looking at, freak?"
"Nothing.." Sal replied.
Travis stopped petting the cat and crossed his arms in some sort of attempt to not look soft, turning his attention back to the TV. He wasn't even paying attention to whatever the person on screen was mindlessly blathering on about. "What're you doing here?"
"What?" Travis glanced over at the other boy
"I said, what're you doing here?" A moment of hesitant silence passed. The older boy clearly didn't want to answer. "You don't have to-"
"It's none of your fucking business, Sally Face."
More silence. Travis was usually a defensive prick but this time it felt different; or as different as it could get coming from someone as closed off as Travis. Though, everything seemed different between the two of them after the bologna incident. Words caught up in Sal's throat, what could he possibly say to make this situation any better. Travis would refuse to open up and he knew that. And so, there was more silence between the two of them, both of their gazes settled upon the TV.
Some time had passed and Travis was half asleep at this point. Sal got up and shuffled his way to his room to find Trav a blanket. "Where are you going?" he muttered
"Getting you a blanket." The other replied
Travis simply stared at him and went back to petting the fat cat perched next to him on the sofa, soaking up the attention, as always. Sal found a blanket for him, quickly returning and throwing it at him after plopping right back down next to him. "I can change the channel, if you want. Maybe you want some.. gospel.. churchy shit to sleep to"
"No. No, I've definitely heard enough about God's wrath and power today. No gospel. This is fine, keep this on."
Sal did some weird half-scoff-half-chuckle, very clearly confused by the others attitude.
"Sure. Okay." Sal looks over at the TV and back at Travis, "Didn't know some old lady selling ugly jewellery for nearly a thousand dollars was interesting."
"It isn't"
"You seem pretty invested in that really ugly necklace. Looks like something my grandma would wear."
"Shhhhhhh" Travis pushed him away. He didn't care about what was on the TV, he didn't care about ugly necklaces or bracelets or what Sal's grandma wears, he just wanted to go to sleep now.
"Awee, I think that necklace would totally suit you, dude!" Sally Face teased, prodding Travis on his side.
Travis tensed as Sal poked at his ribs "Absolutely not," he groaned. "Stop poking me, you little shit."
Sal acknowledged Travis' slight wince when he poked him, so he stopped. It was silent for a moment.
Sally Face looked at the screen for a while.
"You sure you don't want it?" he teased.
"I am so damn sure I don't want that silly necklace that I'd rather... I think I'd rather listen to that bullshit you call music." He retorted, about as playfully a Phelps could get.
"Boo, shut up, you loser" Sal picked up the remote, scrolling through the few channels his TV had. They all sucked. He turned the TV off and turned to Travis, yet again. "Are there any movies you like?"
"Movies? I don't.. I don't really watch movies. My dad thinks most of them are 'the works of the devil.'"
"DUDE? Really? Jesus, I knew he was an ass but this takes his religious nutjob stereotype to another level. How sheltered does he keep you? You're probably banned from reading comics too, or something. Right?"
Travis scoffed at his jab about Kenneth. "Stop being ridiculous."
"Oh, you so are. I bet he thinks batman is what the devil looks like." Sal laughed as he spoke, people like Kenneth were unbelievably funny, especially when they take such small things and compare it to sin or the devil. "Or wonder woman, too scandalous for his precious approval or whatever."
Travis rolled his eyes, Sal was completely right but there's no way he'd let him win.
Later, after much more teasing from Sal and futile retorts from Travis, Sal was back in his room, turning over every few minutes in a desperate attempt to get to sleep. Gizmo meowed at Sal from the end of his bed, getting increasingly annoyed from all of the movement.
"Sorry Gizmo..." Sal whispered to the cat, sitting up and reaching over to pet him. Leaning into his owner's touch, gizmo purred before jumping off the bed and wandering off elsewhere in the apartment, Sal followed shortly behind. With not much else to do, he looked through the cupboards for something to snack on but there was nothing that he really wanted to eat right now. He closed the cupboard and leaned against the counter, looking over at Travis, who was asleep. Travis looks so much different when he's asleep...a lot less tense. Sal's mind drifts as he stares at him, why'd he come here of all places? It wasn't something that crossed his mind until now, Travis came HERE.