its true swear scouts honour

chapter 5

hi all so sorry for the late update so sorry!! I've been so busy with exams and had to lock in. BUT... they are over now so definitely expect more frequent updates. I'd also like to say how nuts is 6k reads? I love this fandom so much and I never expected the kind of support I received, even from the very first chapter, so thank you so much for even reading this. I've also recently been so disgusted by the people online who think they have the right to comment on Taylors body in any way, nonetheless using invasive pregnancy speculations as a way to justify their judgements. If it isn't bad enough, these people call themselves fans when Taylor herself has openly discussed how a trigger for her eating disorder in the past was quite literally pregnancy speculations. Frankly, as a fan, it DISGUSTS me. 

(also this my first attempt at erm.... so be nice haha)

Taylors POV:

The ride home felt like ages. Not that getting with Travis is something that frequents my mind, but the man makes it pretty hard not to ovulate at the sight of him, especially when he's been nothing but a gentleman and especially supportive. He rests his hand over my thigh as my driver takes us to his place and the world feels quiet. At peace. 

When we arrive, he gently tugs at my hand to follow him and I dutifully follow. The house he's staying is smaller than what I pictured of someone of his career would stay in but it fills my heart with hope knowing that he can defy all expectations I have of NFL men. He pulls me into the living room, a room which reminds me of the 70s with a warm energy.  A couple of lamps faintly light the room an orange glow. He grins and asks me if I want a glass of wine, to which I smile and oblige, I did just finish a killer show.

The windows are lined with coloured glasses, staining the panes in a kaleidoscope array, casting a colourful glow through the room lit up by the moonlight. A stack of vinyls lay in the corner of the room and I flick though them in admiration as I observe the ones Travis must have taken off the shelf. Radiohead, Foo Fighters, Shania Twain. Seems like he has good taste. 

"Here is your glass of red." Travis appears behind me, a glass of Sancerre in hand. 

"Sancerre? How did you know?" I laugh and his face flushes.

"I do my research." He smirks and his gaze follows what I was previously admiring. "Forgot to put those away." He says sheepishly, "Not very a good host am I?" He laughs nervously and I shake my head laughing a little.

"No in fact I was just admiring what good taste you have. I love Shania Twain." I smile and observe his lips for a moment before realising my obviousness and meet his gaze once again. To avoid the moment I have created a take a long sip of my wine. As I drink however, I notice how dangerously Travis is meeting my gaze, making me drink even more of the liquid in my glass for confidence sake. 

We spend the rest of the evening chatting, kissing at random intervals and we even watch a film I'm featured on, Where the Crawdads sing. It's so refreshing to have somebody who just wants more than anything to understand me and my world as much as I desperately want to know them. Even though much of the time I've gotten to know Travis has been pretty disjointed due to our crazy lives, he makes me feel like I could say anything and it's the most interesting thing he's ever heard. Like I matter.

As the night goes on, we both progressively find ourselves tipsy, probably making sexual innuendos we shouldn't be making and wake up the next morning in Travis's bed, not naked, but not fully clothed either. 

When I wake I feel my heart nearly leap out of my chest when I realise he's spooned into me from behind. He stirs a little, before pulling me even closer to his chest making my ovaries want to explode then and there. It's taking everything in me to keep our relationship as slow as possible, especially when I've just come out of a turbulent situationship that got way too serious too fast, but this man is making it impossible. When he reaches over and spoons me into him, how can I not fold?