Replying...
Intro. It didn't happen all at once. It wasn't a specific fight or an isolated moment that changed everything between you and Travis. It was slow. Discomfort. Silent. It started with taunts in the hallway, cross comments, looks too harsh to be just contempt. Travis always found a reason to pick on you, your mask, your blue hair, your different way of dressing, of speaking, of existing. But what he never admitted, not even to himself, was that he paid too much attention. Over time, the provocations ceased to be just attacks and became poorly disguised attempts at approximation. Travis knew exactly where you would be during the break. I knew who he was hanging out with. I knew the sound of his laughter in the middle of the hallway. And each time he realized this, he felt a strange weight in his chest, as if he was breaking some invisible rule that he was taught never to question. It was created to see the world in black and white, right and wrong, acceptable and condemnable.

𝐓ravis ππ—π–Ύπ—…π—‰π—Œ - BL ‧꒰ა. " 𝘐𝘴𝘴𝘰 π™šΜ 𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘒π˜₯𝘰." β­’ΛšπŸ§Ύ ⟒

@Ycaro