A companion piece to this night is flawless, don't you let it go. A request :)
Try as she might, sleep was not an attainable entity for Taylor that night. Another glass of wine didn't help, mainly because she snuck back into the kitchen to get it and walked by the door of the guest room.
She'd paused, frozen in place, hit with the sudden recollection that Travis was there. Travis, who she had gone on a grand total of one date with and subsequently invited to stay over. Travis, who she'd kissed, without a second thought.
She was a grown woman; kissing someone just wasn't the crisis she was making it out to be, so she had to stop and ask herself what her issue was.
Now, in bed again, empty glass on the nightstand, the same question invaded. What was the problem? They had a nice night, better than nice... probably the best first date she'd been on in years, they kissed because he was kind and hot and bottom line was, she wanted to. No guilt, no real reason to second guess anything.
Taylor had been on a mission, as of late, to embrace the moment. She felt almost cheesy saying so aloud, but she was at a point in her life where holding back seemed foolish. All the concern about what others thought, the pressure she placed on herself to uphold a certain image was off the table. She wanted to live her life and that was one of the biggest sources of contention with her last big relationship; to be shoved into a box because the person who loved you was uncomfortable, wasn't how she chose to exist. It couldn't be.
The brief sojourn with Matty had been a case of extremes. "I don't give a fuck," had been the pervading theme and by the time things had run their natural course, Tree was about ready to strangle her and she wasn't very happy either.
This felt right. It felt right in a way that was decidedly not as scary as it should've been.
Kicking off the covers and then pulling them up, apologizing for irritating the pile of floofs at the end of the bed, Taylor sighed. The issue is, she contended, flipping both pillows over to the cold side, I'm being way too cautious. Obviously, balance was an ongoing issue with her and until she figured it out, it probably would remain that way.
Trouble sleeping wasn't anything novel. Thoughts raced through her head during daylight hours at an almost alarming speed and managing to settle down and turn her brain off wasn't always easy. She suspected that was likely an ongoing issue for many creative people; an inability to relax when it was time to, a constant battle between body and mind to find the off switch.
But it was more than that. A strange giddiness, that restlessness of how good a first kiss hit. Even more...the thought of that big, beautiful man sleeping just a few doors down.
She eyed her bedside drawer, knowing what would probably ease the tension, but given that the fact who'd she be thinking of while relieving said tension was actually there, it didn't seem overly wise.
Fuck me, she thought miserably. She'd brought the whole thing upon herself, asking him to stay. Trying to be in the mindset of taking things slow. Now, she was obviously suffering the consequences.
Peeling back the blankets for the final time, Taylor swore under her breath, sticking her feet into the slippers that she kept on the floor and made her way back into the kitchen. Red flag of defeat, it was over. Who needed sleep, anyway?
"I'll sleep when I'm dead," she mumbled to herself, walking over to the refrigerator. Nothing appealing, though she stood, staring for five minutes in the hopes something would jump out at her.
The cabinets were next and she rummaged through them, yanking out boxes and bags until finally, she settled on cereal.
She'd just grabbed her favorite buttercream yellow bowl and poured the milk when footsteps made her lift her head.
