You'll Be Alright - Taylor Swift

Part 19

Taylor's POV

"They're all really nice, I promise. I would never introduce you to anyone that isn't safe, buddy," I cooed as we walked downstairs and into the kitchen, where I placed Ry on the counter, watching her closely as I started to grab things to make dinner.

I honestly don't know what to feel after what we just talked about upstairs. How can someone so little have such big thoughts? I mean, I knew she was smart, but the fact that she had worked out Lily was dead without me saying anything makes me wonder just how smart she is.

Not that I could focus on that thought. The words after she asked if Lily was happy now are forever going to ring in my ears. How could she ever think I was unhappy with her? She is everything to me. The fact that the only tear to fall from her eyes was when she asked me that had me wanting to sob. But I had to put a brave face on for her. She deserves someone who's going to comfort her, not the other way around.

That is the most she has ever talked about her past, and I feel like I have a whole new level of respect for her. I already thought she was the bravest person I have met, but after listening to her talk about sleeping in the car like it was the best thing ever and trying her hardest to take care of Lily when she was depressed, I honestly think she is a gift from God.

How can anyone be that strong?

"What do you think? Should we have chicken pasta for dinner?" I ask once I'm finished grabbing things, making Ry smile when I pull a thinking face in her direction. "Yes, please," she nods, watching me as I continue to move around the kitchen, this time grabbing pots and pans. Ryan loves chicken and pasta, so I figured this was a safe bet. Short of serving her chocolate for dinner, I don't think there is anything she would like more. And after everything that just happened, I think she deserves some comfort food.

Wordlessly, I slip my apron on before putting hers over her head, being careful as I adjust her arm in its sling so it isn't pinned under the apron. "Right, as my sous chef, you get to pick the music. What do you think?" I offer, making me shrug. "I don't know any but yours," she mumbles shyly, looking down at her feet as she taps her fingers against her leg, probably playing her latest song.

"That's alright. You clearly have great taste," I tease, sending her a big smile as I rub her leg softly, trying to reassure her. I can see her thinking, and I know it will be nothing positive. "Would you like to listen to my music or try something new?" I offer, making her think for a second before pointing at me, making me grin.

"And what songs would you like? Should I put them all on shuffle, or would you like me to play an album? Or maybe you want to pick a few of your favourites?" I suggest trying to limit her options so it seems less daunting. I did consider passing her my phone and letting her pick, but I think that might be too much for her. "Shuffle," she finally decided, making me hum as I connected to the speaker before shuffling my discography for her.

I am reasonably sure she liked her decision because the smile on her face didn't fade once as she listened along, her fingers tapping as she tried to figure out how to play each song. I am relatively sure that when I wake up tomorrow morning, I am going to find her playing my whole library better than I ever could.

Our cooking session was interrupted when the doorbell rang, making Ry almost fall off the counter. Luckily, I was right beside her, catching her before she could hurt herself as I held her close. I hummed Safe and Sound as I walked us towards the door, trying my best to calm her down before she worked herself up.

"That's Blake and the girls, buddy. You're alright. Greg and Axle won't let anyone who isn't safe up to the front door," I remind her softly as we get to the door, holding back on opening it until I am sure she is calm. I'm not going to force her into doing anything until she is ready. Plus, I have told Blake all about Ryan, and I'm sure she will understand if it takes a second for us to open up.