For Evermore: taylor swift x harry styles ff

A Fatal Encounter With Dessert - Chapter 2

Song of the chapter: Grapejuice - Harry Styles

Taylor

Taylor had never liked the Phoenix Pavilion. Sure, the teahouse was beautifully designed, with gilded ceilings and bird cages hanging in artistic arrangements. However, the place smelled horrible. Cigar smoke, coupled with the cloying perfume of other customers, made the large shop feel stifling and oppressively small. She counted hastily under her breath. One two three one two three one two three. Subtly, she shifted her chair closer to the glass panes behind her. Even though they didn't let any air in, she felt a little better, imagining herself back outside.

Opposite her, General Swift sipped his tea ruminatively, bloodshot eyes trailing passing carriages. She could tell something had been bothering him the past few days. Whatever it was, it kept him up at night, sending him into swinging moods of foul temper and silent despondency. He refused to talk about it, waving her concern away, which was why she had been surprised when she received his note.

"How are you, Dad?" She asked after they sat in silence for some time.

She only received a low murmur for response before her father lapsed back into silence. He had never been one to share his emotions or show his vulnerability to others. Except for Mama. She remembered how her parents used to sit by the fireplace drinking grape juice, talking, while she pranced around them fighting imaginary foes. There was a dull ache in her heart. Used to. When she was still around.

"Has something happened?"

"Yes, something far worse than you can imagine, Taylor!" The unexpected emotion in his voice shocked her so much that for a moment, she was speechless. She had never wished for her mother's steady comfort as much as she did now.

Just as she came back to herself, a liveried waiter appeared at their table, bearing a patisserie box upon a tray. "An anonymous gift, madam."

Thank Stylinson for the extra time to find the words she needed so desperately.

"I have no idea who this could be from," She would consider possible suspects later, but as for then, she swiftly relieved the waiter of the box. Inside it was four strawberry tartlets. Disappointed, she pushed them towards her father and watched as he wolfed one down, his worries temporarily forgotten.

"Maybe a secret admirer," he mumbled as he finished off another tart.

"Really?! Look at me, Dad," Taylor gestured, comically outraged, at her strong frame and solid arms, her hair in a neat military-style bun. Miles away from the coquettish ladies she saw in court, who did their hair in braided crowns adorned with strings of beryls.

"Yes, Tay," He smiled sadly but fondly at her, cupping her face in his palm. "You look just like your mama."

As Taylor leaned into his embrace, she could feel a faint tremble in his hand. What was happening? her father always had steady hands. That was what made him such a good shot.

"Dad?"

"I'm okay," he replied, wheezing before bursting into a racket of laboured coughs. "Something probably just went down the wrong way." But she could tell he was just as alarmed as her.

Suddenly, he choked violently, his cup slipping from his grasp and spilling scalding tea onto his lap. He didn't seem to notice. He was making strangled gasps, eyes bulging, hands shaking as he clawed desperately at his throat.

Taylor cried and leapt out of her seat in horror. But she was too late to catch her father as he crumpled forward, his shoulder striking the table painfully before he toppled to the ground.

What happened next was as disorienting as a fever dream. People were swarming over her like bees, prodding and grabbing, their hands pulling and pushing and she couldn't think, couldn't see anything but her father's unconscious body. There was a roaring sound in her ears. Everything was too loud, too close. The golden teahouse leeched its colours out into grey. She wanted her father to wake up and take her back to-

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hope u liked this chapter! stay tuned for the next one~