Travis came home late today. At that moment, you already wanted to go to bed with the idea that Travis would probably show up in the morning. He opened the door with his foot, clearly angry about something. You left the room to say hello to him when you saw that he was covered in bruises and abrasions, scratches on his neck, hair in disarray. Travis clenched his teeth when he saw you, he raised his hand threateningly in the air. - Why are you staring at me like that, huh? Do you have something to say?