Travis' POV
"Close your eyes." He says softly anxiety filling my mind.
It was like magic that I was here sitting crisscross on the bed of Sal Fisher a deep red color tinting over my face that my aggressive brooding attitude barely hid but I wasn't against it, because I'm with him. I let my eyes drift shut like he asked making the blue-haired boy in front of me fade into the black. Then I hear a clicking noise followed by another before something is set into my lap and I feel it, it's his prosthetic? Before I can understand the situation, he moves in kissing me with a soft passion that melts my brain. I keep my eyes closed tight knowing he wanted me to before I slowly move my hand up to cup his scarred cheek, making sure to grasp as little detail as possible from my fingertips for his privacy. I feel his soft but textured lips against my roughed chapped ones hoping he doesn't mind it. His face is warm and hopefully, as pink as mine is from how exciting and scary this all is I'm almost overwhelmed. When he pulls back, he still manages to make it romantic seeming by grabbing my shaking hand squeezing it softly to reassure me before letting go. A kindergarten crush level of giddiness making it hard for me to keep the moment quiet and sentimental but still trying not wanting to let this go. Then I hear the two clicks of his mask being put back on and I open my eyes,
"Wow."
