[discon.] in another life, darling [kaylor]

invisible string

nyc. dec. 13. 2017

Strips of sunlight perforated the room, illuminating Taylor's face. Her view of the crystal-clear sky slightly blurry from the moisture that dotted her still-sleepy eyes. At first, she felt comfortable and warm. Her blankets felt thicker, her pillow plumper. She closed her eyes, humming contently, burring herself deeper in the bed. That didn't last long, as her confusion soon overtook her.

She snapped her eyes open and sat up, taking in the scene before her. The room she was in was not hers; it was a lot more luxurious. The first thing she noticed was how open the room was, taking note of the high arched ceiling. Gold seeped through the pristine double doors that took up half the wall to the left of the bed. A silver chandelier with intricate, spiral decals hung over the middle of the room, above a long beige couch that seemed to double as an ottoman for the bed she currently sat on. The bed was huge and soft with Baby-Breaths pink Egyptian cotton sheets. A translucent taupe canopy cascaded down over the bed on the sides in a royal fashion. She started to feel the familiar creep of a panic attack form in her stomach, bubbling up to her throat, sucking the air out of her lungs. She swung her feet off the bed and stood, desperate for fresh air.

She flung the doors open and stumbled out onto the rooftop patio, grabbing the metal railing so tight, her knuckles turned white. She took huge gulps of unusually warm December air, ignoring the dull throb in her head as her hangover began to infiltrate her skull. She suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder, followed shortly by a second on her back. She focused her mind on the feeling of those hands, letting her ground herself again.

"Well good morning to you too, sleepyhead," a voice spoke up behind her once Taylor calmed down significantly. She turned her head, shocked to see the woman from the bar last night – Karlie. "You certainly did not react the way I thought you would. I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to bring you. You weren't exactly cooperating last night."

Taylor turned away, shielding her face as a groan escaped her lips, "You didn't have to. Now I feel like an ass."

Karlie laughed, and the familiar tickle brushed the back of Taylor's neck, "I tried to get you home, but according to you, your address is blehblahblehblah." Her last words were a string of slurred nonsense, making herself laugh again.

"Oh, you don't know blehblahblehbleh? It's connected to blerbagha," Taylor joined in finally turning her full body around, giggling to her friend. She started to feel easy once again, letting the familiar feeling of last night take over her again.

"Oh, blerbagna? Well, that's right on 14th Street, why didn't you say something?" Karlie shot back, grinning at the shorter girl.

"Ah, you're right. I should've been more coherent."

Karlie playfully agreed, before easily changing the topic and it was easy for Taylor to notice how confident she was. Anxiety and social awkwardness seemed to escape the breathtakingly beautiful woman. From the way she talked, so eloquently, timing and toning the word to perfection, to the way she walked. Just like the night before, she seemed to glide as if she was an angel. She didn't hide her face, or her intentions. She strutted, wanting everyone to look at her and admire her beauty, and her perfect hair fell into place like dominos, haloing her face. And just like the night before, Taylor was captivated by her.

"Well," Karlie started, casually beginning to stretch her long arms up over her head, causing her pajama shirt to rise as well, "I've been up for hours, and I could really use a coffee. Want some?" Taylor tried to pay attention to the words she was saying but couldn't help letting her eyes flick dangerously to the exposed skin, noticing how low her sweatpants hung on her hips. She felt a familiar heat and looked away, suddenly feeling dirty. Taylor was a stranger to her, someone Karlie could've ignored last night, looking the other way, and this is how Taylor repays her; by ogling her? I'm no better than a man. Taylor thought, pulling herself back to the conversation at hand.