The smell of a recent thunderstorm lingered in the air as the quiet freckled boy walked around his campus. Almost nobody else was out walking, because it was in fact 8 in the morning, and everyone was either in class or still slumbering in their dorms, bashing the snooze button more times than necessary. Tavros didn't mind that nobody else was outside. He liked the subdued solidity of the campus after a storm had passed. Not everyone wanted to slosh around in the muck left behind by the showers, but Tavros just pulled on his black boots to go off and enjoy the peaceful environment that was not always present at his university.
His first class would begin at promptly noon, and until then he had developed a routine of sitting on the old bench on the right side of the courtyard (because there was also an old bench on the left side of the courtyard, but it simply would not do, it had to be the right side) and eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Crunchy peanut butter. Grape jelly. He made it with the utmost care before leaving his apartment almost silently, allowing his roommate to catch a few more z's while he began his day.
After breakfast Tavros liked to meander around a bit, taking in all the scenery that he hadn't quite gotten used to since he left his home state of California for college in Ohio. Meandering for days on end before class had eventually led him to what was now, one of Tavros's favorite places to be. The record shop.
The door jingled slightly as a slim hand pushed it open. Tavros had always been known (and sometimes teased) for having particularly dainty hands for someone of the male persuasion. The boy behind the counter looked up from his most-likely-pornographic reading material and smiled at the regular customer. Tavros smiled back. The counter-boy closed up his magazine, and brushed a stray wisp of matted hair away from his own face, while it proceeded to flop back down to an even worse position in front of his eyeball than before.
"What can I get for ya today Tav-bro?" Gamzee talked rather slow, and his words were a bit slurred at times, probably because he was frequently smoking weed. Nonetheless, the nicknames he dubbed Tavros with were endearing, and Tavros blushed a little when Gamzee called him by any one of the numerous names he had made up over the course of a couple months.
"I'm just, uh, browsing," Tavros replied in a soft voice. When he did speak, which wasn't often, there was always a touch of hesitation in his voice. He always wanted to think about exactly what words to use before he used them, but that wasn't a constant option. The kid was always so careful about everything. Judging by his appearance, which was identical to his look from the day before as well, most people could tell this was true.
His legs were remarkably thin, almost bony even, but we won't go so far as to say that. His black pants made his legs almost less thin, but not by much. He wore a lightweight black t-shirt underneath a black jacket three sizes too large for him. He was immensely gangly for a boy of 20. Tavros's face was slim and pale and covered with a splash of freckles, just a shade darker than his light brown eyes. His hair was shaved close to his head on either side, with a small bang that flopped down in the center of his face. Tavros would swing it out of his eyes every so often, pausing to do so. A small nose ring was centered in between his petite nostrils.
At the time when he'd got his nose pierced, he thought that possibly by having a nose ring it would make his introvert-esque appearance a tad bit more intimidating. Tavros couldn't quite say that it worked, but he did like the look of the ring.
Gamzee was gangly, too, but much taller than Tavros. Tavros was of average height for someone of his age, but Gamzee was a tree. He was a bit more olive-toned than the fair skinned Tavros. His mop of scraggly black hair almost always completely engulfed the gaunt, yet still pleasant-looking frame of his face. Although you couldn't normally see them, his eyes were a deep, uncommon shade of purple. Gamzee usually carried around with him the faint odor of marijuana and faygo soda. It wasn't a bad odor, though. Tavros almost kind of…well…liked it.
Gamzee never really was one for a proper dress code. One thing his fashion choice almost always included was pajamas, and one thing it never included was a hairbrush for that unruly lion's mane. Nonetheless, he was an exceptionally good-looking guy.
Gamzee chuckled at Tavros and went back to his magazine, allowing him to browse the records in peace. Tavros liked Gamzee. He was always very nice to Tavros. He appreciated the way that Gamzee could laugh at someone, but in a warm way. He never had bad intentions, as far as Tavros could tell. He was just a stoner in the midst of a college campus, observing any of the students who passed by or entered the record shop. Gamzee didn't attend the university anymore. He had graduated a year prior, and had chosen to remain close to the school anyway, because rent near the campus was fairly affordable.
Tavros loved the record shop for many reasons, one of which being that Gamzee did not mind that he would stay and contemplate each and every record for hours on end, sometimes without buying a single thing. He also liked the fact that although this small shop held so much music, it was always the quietest place he could go to think, the only noise being the almost imperceptible classic rock often playing in the background. The air in the shop was not far from antique, as were many of the records. The subdued smell of must wafted out from the shelves as Tavros pulled down a record that caught his eye.
After carefully examining the front and back side of the ancient form of media, Tavros held it gingerly in his hands and walked up to the counter where Gamzee sat, still amply reading his strange digest. His eyes fluttered upwards as Tavros approached the cash register. As Tavros set the record he had chosen down on the surface of the counter, Gamzee broke into a large toothy grin. "One of my personal favorites Tavrocious!" his words slightly slurred, as usual. The album was the old Beatles classic, Abbey Road. "You gonna be needing a bad for this shit?" Gamzee swore often, but Tavros didn't mind. He found it strangely winsome. "Yes, thank you," Tavros replied quickly, his hazel eyes briefly crossing Gamzee's face for just a moment.
Gamzee bagged the album and handed it to Tavros, while another grin escaped his lips. "You have a motherfuckin good time listenin' to that!" he called out as Tavros exited the shop. The door jingled as he stepped out onto the damp sidewalk, and he smiled. Gamzee watched him leave from the storefront window.