rules + about (still under construction) + verses + tags + verse interest sheet + carrd (tba) + media yays + nays

             ‘ mm… just in the bathrooms. i guess weird naked guys don’t like the smell as much as anyone else. ‘ she grinned, lazily tucking her hair behind her ear. she’d managed to walk all the way back at a leisurely pace without seeing a thing. ‘ of the bathrooms, i mean. ‘

     “Right, the bathrooms.” As if both of them weren’t aware; again, it’s not an urgent concern, but it does kinda irritate him that she’s basically being so flippant. There again -- searching for one sliver of a silver lining -- at least she seems calm. And un-bitten, so even better.

     The first time he’d met Darby, Travis hadn’t been entirely sure what he was seeing; sure, the death wound was something of a give-away, but perhaps it was some part of a strange gag, to go with the fact that the guy looked like he’d teleported from the 50s. But it had taken Travis a good five or more seconds to even start to lean into the option, the possibility, that this new companion of his was a ghost. Could’ve been an extra on a movie set if it weren’t for the fact that they weren’t anywhere near a movie set.

     Darby’s far from the worst kind of company, despite the initial shock.

     Travis had been... oh, reminiscing, he’s embarrassed to say, about home -- his ex-home, he guesses he should call it -- talking about how he misses it all. They’re only fresh acquaintances, barely a couple of weeks knowing each other, but he doesn’t feel that sense of self-reproach when he voices a feeling, and Darby’s been fine with that, so far.

     So he must’ve said something to set Darby off like that. A moment’s consideration: who did he leave behind, what kind of life it was, how much he misses it, how much he remembers (and how much may just be nostalgia, but Travis isn’t trying to be cruel, so he won’t voice that). A curl of smoke leaves his lips (better to smoke-drive than drink-drive) as he ponders a response, something that could be helpful. It’s been a long while since he’s had to comfort anyone.

     “Well I would hope not.” Only the slightest pause: he’s trying to be teasing, as a friend, maybe. “I hope someone let you take up more space than that.” Because yes, Travis misses it, but his life then was small. And maybe it always will be, but at least he has more of a choice. At the cost of some of his family’s lives, he thinks, and it’s a bitter aftertaste.