— hang-outs that start to feel more and more like dates for Travis pls 👀
It's not even funny the way this story has been giving me so much brainrot. 😭
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Recuerdo que mencionaste algo sobre España antes, ya que soy española me preguntaba si tú también eres española o si lo recordé mal. No suelo encontrar muchos autores españoles de ficción interactiva ya que la mayoría suelen ser americanos o ingleses. No soy una autora ni nada, pero me también me gusta escribir haha. Tu estilo de escritura es absolutamente fantástico, hace tiempo que una historia me ha enganchado tanto y los personajes también son increíbles. ¡No puedo esperar para leer el demo! Se que va a ser genial.
From this ask game!
Hola👁️ sisoy española jajgja muchísimas gracias por los cumplidos😭💕 tengo muchas ganas también de publicarla a ver qué tal^^
The cozy café bustles with activity as you sit across from Travis, the warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. Today, you share a table by the window, bathed in soft afternoon light. Travis, his dark eyes hidden behind a book he’s been pretending to read, remains as stoic and aloof as ever. You eye him for a couple of moments, sip your drink, and—
“So, Travis,” you begin with a playful lilt in your voice, “you’re really getting into that book, huh?”
He lowers the book just enough to peer at you over the rim, his expression impassive. “I find it intriguing. Jay has an interesting taste.”
You can't help but chuckle. “Is that your way of saying it’s boring as hell?”
“Maybe,” his lips twitch, the tiniest hint of a smile forming, “Are you going to tell them?”
“Maybe,” you tease, leaning in a bit closer, the easy familiarity between you allowing for such proximity.
The coffee shop waitress, an observant and well-meaning soul, returns with a refill for your coffee. Her eyes dart between the two of you, a subtle grin forming on her lips, “You two make such a cute couple. How long have you been together?”
Travis raises an eyebrow at the comment, clearly unamused. You, on the other hand, decide to play along.
“Oh, we’ve lost count,” you chuckle, “Haven’t we, Travis?”
He sighs, his stoic facade cracking ever so slightly as he mutters, “Maybe you should get a new brain—” Travis stops to glare at you when you kick him under the table, “…calendar. A new calendar... for our anniversary.”
The worker giggles, clearly delighted by your interaction, “Well, you two enjoy your date!”
As she walks away, you and Travis exchange a glance. His expression remains guarded, but there’s a hint of warmth—maybe amusement—in his eyes that’s difficult to miss. And so you decide to press further.
“Date, huh?” you tease, your voice laced with a subtle challenge “She thought we were, uh, dating. Like— On a date.”
Travis leans back in his chair, his gaze fixed on you, “Don’t read too much into it. She’s just making assumptions.”
“You think it looks like we’re on a date?”
“Who cares, [Name]?” Travis shrugs, “As I said. She’s just making assumptions.”
You shrug, a playful smile tugging at your lips, “Assumptions can be fun, you know.”
The tension between you seems to thicken, the unspoken words hanging in the air. It's moments like these, in which you spend time together—alone—that you want to crawl inside Travis’ brain for a couple of hours. But for now, you're content to enjoy the banter with your friend, even if he remains just out of reach.
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