"My mom doesn't allow me to have any kind of processed foods."
Day is in the next isle, and Travis is walking with him, as Day picks up whatever he deems fit.
"She would have a brain meltdown if she saw all the things I was planning on eating," he chuckles, and Travis soaks it in.
It's stupid. He should go to him, cross the distance between them, but even this way, as they walk almost side by side, talking, it feels just like them.
Intimate and playful.
"I bet you don't eat processed foods either," he goes on, gaze holding onto his, when they momentarily stop and just look at each other above the aisle.
"What makes you think that?" Travis asks.
" Well, you just have this look, you know?" He gestures wildly, making Travis laugh. "This clean food guy kind of vibe. Plus, I noticed how you looked like you were going to throw up in your mouth when I took the marshmallows. I mean, who hates marshmallows?!"
