IMAGINES | travis kelce + taylor swift (1)

16.2 | for you, i would ruin myself

"Tay?"

Fuck.

I scrambled on my feet, wobbling to my fear. Frantic, I threw the stick into the trash bin, then collapsed on the floor. I brought my knees up to my chin and began to cry, to shake. I prayed that he wouldn't find me, not like this. Not under the circumstances I left him hanging on.

____

A weight of dread plummeted on Taylor's shoulders when her boyfriend stepped foot into the same room as her. "Taylor, baby?" He asked worriedly. "What happened, honey?" 

There was too much emotion behind her thought to divulge the explanation he was hoping for. She choked on her cries, unable to nourish herself with air. The man knelt beside her, telling her, "It's okay. You're okay, baby. We're alright. I'm here now."

The girl wouldn't budge. She wouldn't look at him. She couldn't gather the energy to speak to him as it was all being used in this attack of panic she dissolved in. And yet, after a full half hour of pacing around the bathroom, she hadn't thought of an alibi to treat him to. Although she was angry with him--technically speaking, she was pissed off with the world--he deserved to know at the very least.

With time, Taylor returned to a state of somewhat normalcy. Her breathing rate had slowed, her wails had quieted, and her comfort of Travis was regained. He sat near her, rubbing circles down her spine, uttering soft statements, reminding her he was near, that there wasn't anything he was going to let happen to her. "Can you sit up for me, lovey?" Travis cooed.

Taylor only nodded, pushing herself off the floor entirely, then to lean against the sink bowl. Travis was mighty quick to follow her movements, flaring to her side once again. "I need to change," Taylor muttered. "I feel fucking disgusting."

"My t-shirt is on the bed if that's what you'd like to wear," said the man, quietly. He was shattering like glass with examination. But, he knew better. Whatever it was to have set Taylor, a usually calm and collected being, off like that, had to have been serious. He had connected this incident to her rage from earlier. At this point, he would die for answers, but he wanted to remain faithful to Taylor instead of burdening her with inquiry. Aftercare was important, and before acting out, he would make sure she was calm, not hungry or too full, not too tired, and the absolute furthest from whatever county of mind she was in.

Taylor tended to herself in the closet while Travis fixed himself ready for bed in the bathroom. Leaning down to gather his dirty clothes from the floor, he noticed an unfamiliar object in the trash bin. It was a small bin, no bigger than a regular sized bucket, so the object stuck out to him. Curious, he dived in for more information, placing it in the palm of his hand, clutching it protectively.

When he slackened his grip, he held it up eye level. It took him no time to realize what the mysterious object was, annoyed that it wasn't so secret anymore. All sorts of emotions punched Travis in the face, like an enraging agitation, and even a little resentment towards Taylor. Flipping the test for the results, two lines were visible. "What the fuck," he sputtered to himself, unfortunately not enough to himself that it was inaudible for Taylor to hear on the other side of the door. All at once, the night started making sense. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, though some still scattered.

Fury sparked a temper inside of him. A type of anger he's never felt. It was not one he could express. A whirlwind of excitement seeped through the cracks of his thunder, but he craved answers. He was in desperate need of answers before he was in the scene of a tantrum. "Taylor," he called out, treading outside and into the restroom. "Did you have something you wanted to share with me?"