Travis is standing there, wide-eyed. You've clearly caught him by surprise. You raise your hands defensively, trying to calm him. You examine Travis closely while you consider your next move.
You look at your boyfriend, an expression of unease on his face. His features are gentle, but handsome. Thin, dark eyebrows sit on top of his steely gray eyes. When he is serious, as he is now, his lips go tight and pale. He has prominent cheekbones, which are covered with a light brown stubble, matching the sandy hair on his head. His teeth have a little gap in the middle, but you find it charming. His hair is a little long, something you liked about him as soon as you saw him. He's wearing it up in a short ponytail now, but if he let it hang loose it would drop just past his chin. He's thin; you haven't seen much of his body, except his arms, which look relatively strong. He says it's because he used to be a drummer, but he had to stop playing to pursue a career in business. He seems to favor simple, stylish clothes. He seemed to prefer crisp linen dress shirts like the one on him now, but he wore polos and western shirts from time to time. Thinking about it, he always seems to wear dressy khaki pants with a fashionable cut. He moves his hand towards his pocket, probably getting his phone.
"Wait. Travis, it's me... [name]." He looks skeptical, but doesn't protest. He relaxes slightly, his arms swinging limply to his side. "Really. I know I look very.... VERY different, but it's me." Travis thinks for a moment. "You sound like yourself. The voice, and also what you're saying. But how can I believe you? You don't look much like [name]." You close the door behind you. It had been wide open, forgotten in the tension of the moment. You gesture to the kitchen table, and Travis obliges you, sitting. He doesn't take his slate-colored eyes off you, however. You join him at the table, police radio, cuffs, and baton loudly jangling as you sit. "Well?" Travis is getting impatient. You sigh. You cross your hairy arms in front of you. You decide to tell him the whole truth, crazy as it is. "It's magic, Travis." He laughs a little. "That would explain it, but how can you prove it?" You hold up your freckled hand, gesturing with the other. "This ring did it. It can switch features between people." Travis examines it carefully before his eyes jump back to your face. You continue, explaining your discovery, the rules of the ring, and how you had ended up this hirsute ginger policeman.
Travis looks at you. "I'm still not sure if I believe you. I mean I think it's you, I feel it, but there's only one way to be sure." Travis rolls up the sleeves of his navy blue dress shirt and extends a hand. "You said you already used it today. So let me see if I can work it." You expected this, but you're not sure how you want to proceed. What should you do?