Treacherous (Taylor x Fem OC)

50

A/N: I AM ALIVEEEEEE

Been so long I know, school and work hectic. Last semester though! Thesis semester woohoooo. My thesis is my WIP novel called 'A Fire Of Burning Ice', it's a sapphic epic fantasy enemies-to-lovers story🫡Let's hope I can get her published when I'm done with it! Got over 100 pages of it down so far...plenty more to go but thesis only calls for 100 minimum pages of a WIP.

Anyways The Tortured Poets Department? Y'all KNOW I already pre-ordered BOTH variants vinyl and collector CDs (and will do so for the other inevitable variants). Travis and Taylor are KILLINGGGG me. I love them so much and if anyone has any shit to say about them, there's the door bitch🚪⬅️

Anywho! Enjoy this chapter :) or not, it was time for some angst so...have fun :D

Taylor POV

Nothing can beat this day. This perfect day. The weather is freezing, teeth-chattering, but I've felt warm the entire time, and it's all because of her.

What's even better is, the drive back to her house, she's the one singing to me, her hand on my thigh, one hand draped lazily over the wheel but still in full control and ease. Trees pass us by, winds threaten to rock the car but Wren battles against it with cool confidence, humming and tapping her fingers against my leg.

"'Cause you got that James Dean daydream look in your eyes," Her smoky voice rasps the lyrics, my lyrics in a way that sends little flutters all throughout my entire frame.

Halfway through the drive, she pulls a blindfold out of the center console and tells me to put it on. Through begging to just have her tell me what she's planning, trying to make it seem like I'm putting up a fight because I know it gets her more excited for whatever she may be planning, I slip it on anyways. A little secret I have. She likes it when I beg her to tell me what she's planning when she has a surprise in store, she likes the little joys of winning the bickering, but she doesn't know that I was going to oblige her request the second the words leave her lips, plus I enjoy seeing her get so proud of her little antics and plotting so of course I join in.

Today has already been the perfect birthday, I have no clue what else she could possibly be planning, but when we finally come to a stop and I hear her shift the gear to park, I am tempted to peek.

"Ah ah, not so swift, Swift."

The corners of my lips tug upwards as my ears try to pick up on anything, but all my senses narrow in on one: the feeling of Wren's lips against mine.

"I will get the car door and walk you inside. No peeking, love."

I savor the taste of her lips, even when I feel the cool breeze from outside filter in as she steps out of the car. The airy mint of her chapstick leaves a thin layer on my lips, a memory pressing into me.

Once again, the sweet kiss of the outdoor breeze meets my acquaintance and I can feel Wren guiding me outside, the crunching of the gravel and snow beneath my shoes bringing a smile to my face.

The walk is short, with little noises coming when I fear tripping but Wren continuously reassures me.

She pulls the door open and I am instantly greeted with the vintage leather and oud.

"I know we're in your house, I can smell it."

"That...is an odd talent of yours."

It's cute she thinks I don't have every single scent that involves her lodged into my memory. Even the smell of an Old Fashioned reminds me of her, of that first night we met, of that first drink we reached for, the smell of books reminds me of our trip to Long Island, that little bookshop, the wet grass of the cemetery, the McDonalds of our picnic in the cemetery.