Taylor Swift Imagines - book one (GXG)

4.0 | Standard Meeting.

TW - If necessary- Troubled eating is mentioned.

Hey guys! I was a little tipsy so while making this so please, excuse any felonies and misspellings because this is definitely not read proof, and I'm sorry if it sucks, I'm trying my best to get out of a crisis
Love y'all 😚

It was past midnight now. You and Taylor had one of your monthly date nights. For today, you chose a little karoeke. Taylor was in charge of dinner, and made you your favorite dish: spaghetti bolognese. She also had bought diet coke, as you'd usually ask. Everything was expected to go smoothly, but it didn't go as wished.

You got home late, and din't give her major explanations. She didn't question your moves until she did, though. She usually would run late, and it was the first time it had ever happened to you. To be fair, you had had a vey shitty day.

Actually, to say you've had a shitty day was an understatement: You were fired from your job. You worked for that same company for around six years, even before meeting Taylor. She was well-aware of how much you loved your job, but she knew it required too much from you. She also made sure to tell you that whenever you felt like quitting, she'd support you. After all, she's got it.

You worked as a dancer for a very respected dance academy. Not only as a teacher, but as a judge, a pro-level dancer and as a bookkepeer and officer manager. It was very draining but you loved every moment of it. Working all the time and everywhere set you some big standarts, mentally, physically and presence-wise speaking, but you'd to all of that smiling.

The worst part is you didn't even know why. Did you slack off your dancing routines? Or was it your eating habits? Did you misjudge a competition? What had happened to you? You didn't know. You felt like everything was the same, putting you best efforts, aways. Apparently, they aren't enough anymore.

Due to that awful day you've had, you caught a late train. You'd usually get home somewhere around eight thirty pm, however, you had walked up to a bar before the train station. A few beers later, Taylor texted you.

Tay bby 💜

"Hey, darling. Where are you at?"

delivered.

"I'm waiting for you."

read.

You intended to ignore the rest of her messages until you got home. You mascara was absolutely ruined, and you felt like throwing up, until you saw the clock. It was enough to sober you up.

10pm.

You had to rush home to Taylor, and that was what you wanted to do in the first place, but you knew she'd ask you thousands of questions you weren't on the mood to answer. Taylor overthinks too much, but you usually text her to tell everything is okay with you. This time, you really weren't up to it, so you could easily see Taylor freaking out right this moment. Your eyes were puffy, your face was swollen and red. Your ears were burning, because whenever you got mad or upset at something, they'd burn like a struck match. That's one of Taylor's favorite things about you.

You got home silently, and could see the lights out. You sat your things on the table your girlfriend had laid for your dinner night. Removing your shoes and putting your pointe shoes away. God, you weren't in the mood for that stupid cheesy smell. Putting your now ex-dance teacher bag away, sitting down on the ground, to catch your breath as you're about to face talking to your girl.

You quietly went up the stairs, waiting for a glimpse of her. She was pacing all around the room, on her phone, back facing your face. You stared at her, waiting at the door frame, trying to innocently eavesdrop on her conversation. Maybe not that innocently...