𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐀

21

❝This world is rabid, This world is through...❞

—— ༻𐬽✧𐬽༺ ——

TW: mentions of an eating disorder

KIARA
If someone told five year old me that in eight years' time I would be standing in Taylor Swift's apartment for the second time, I think she would be feeling the exact same happiness that I am right now. My admiration for Taylor has not died down for even one day, and after everything she's done for me over these past couple of months, I don't think it ever will.

"Do you want anything to drink, buddy? I've got lemonade, juice... anything you want?" I heard Taylor's voice travel from the kitchen to the living room, where I was stood. Well that's one thing I forgot about being with Taylor. I have to be careful. She doesn't have six kids to look out for like Julie and Louis do, she's going to be trickier to convince that I don't have problems with eating. I mean, I don't. I'm just on a diet. I'm on a diet and it's working. The more I do this, the harder it's going to be for Gracie to make comments on my weight.

"I'm good, thanks Taylor." I simply said, hoping I didn't sound rude.

"Alright, well, if you start to get thirsty just help yourself." She replied as she filled a glass up with water. After, she walked into the living room and gave my shoulder a small squeeze before going to sit down on the couch. I looked down at my hands and started fidgeting with my fingers. I quickly noticed how Taylor was looking over at me, her eyes slightly scrunched into a small frown with a smile on her face.

"Kiara, come over here, i'm not gonna hurt you!" She laughed, beckoning with her hands for me to sit with her. Why do I keep doing this? Why do I have to embarrass myself just because i've gotten used to the expectations of foster families? "Don't sit down on my couch unless I say you can." "Stay in your room until I say you can come out." "If I tell you to do something, you do it with no backchat." Those were some of the comments from my past placements, and I can't help but feel guilty that i'm comparing Taylor to them. And as cool as it would be, Taylor is not my foster parent, and even if she was, why would she be anything like my foster families? She's nicer than all three of my placements combined.

"Sorry." I muttered with an awkward smile, biting my thumbnail as I walked over to the couch. As soon as I sat down, I noticed how Taylor was looking at me with a warning expression, but it was kind of obvious that she wasn't being serious since a grin was tugging at her lips.

She then quickly moved towards me and started poking my sides jokingly. "Stop saying sorry!" She stated whilst gritting her teeth in mock-anger.