A requested part one of two. :)
"You know what would be fun?"
Travis knows for a fact that whenever either of them happen to utter that exact sentence, chaos ensues. It's become their catch phrase of sorts and it typically precedes drinking of some sort. A few glasses of wine or a couple of beers in and they're both geniuses. Well, he recognizes Tay actually is a fucking genius, but drunk Travis thinks he might be, too. In any case, one of them will come up with a brilliant idea and sometimes, it'll come to fruition and sometimes it won't.
It's still good times, though and right now, he's pretty content. They had a nice dinner out and she's curled into his side in front of a roaring fire. She's extra snuggly when she's had a few drinks, giggly, too and he loves it, loves the way she'll melt right into him, the waves of her hair falling loosely when she moves to kiss him.
Most of all, he fucking loves getting to just shoot the shit and be dumb and laugh over nothing much in particular. She's equal parts goofy as she is smart and he can't lie---it feels special to get to see this side of her as often as he does. His girl can do both; command an entire stadium of people while spilling out insane lyrics and be an adorable dork who matches his energy perfectly.
He can tell she's tired, that it's all kind of catching up with her. Saw the way she tried to hide it during dessert, but he caught her eyelids starting to droop a couple of times. She'd apologize and try to sit up straighter in the chair and he refused to let her.
"None needed Tay. Not many people, if any, who could do what you do. You've got every right to be exhausted."
They'd gotten back to the villa and just hung out. He had lit a fire in the main living room area and it was chilling on the sofa (which admittedly wasn't very comfortable) and talking about whatever popped into their heads.
He'd mentioned many times about how supportive she was the entire season, how she'd had thousands of things going on at any given time and yet she had made it a priority to come out and support him. It meant the world to him, one of the many qualities he loved about her. He took any opportunity to show up for her, too, making her a priority.
Her eyes perk up when she asks and right away, even with a wine buzz going on, he knows whatever it is that she wants to ask, she's already full steam ahead, ready to run with it and he also knows without a single clue as to what's going on in her head, he'll be on board.
But what she says isn't what he's expecting. "Let's go swimming in Lake Como buck naked in the middle of the night," would've been closer to what his line of thinking was he watches her twirl a strand of hair around her index finger. The side of her mouth goes up when she's being mischievous, like a cartoon character and he shakes his head with a chuckle, figuring it's a slightly off kilter idea but really fucking fun and he's prepared to say yes.
"What would be fun, baby?"
Her eyes, glazed over from the alcohol and sleep deprivation, light up and she drapes her knee over his calf, sighing a little when his fingers go to massage the cap.
"If you came on stage somehow."
He blinks. Hard. This is most definitely the wine talking and yeah, it was damn good wine, but sober Taylor most certainly wouldn't want his goofy ass up there in front of 90,000 people.
Play it cool, he tells himself. Don't let on that you think she's lost it.
"You want me to come on stage with you? To do what?"
She giggles, a high pitched frequency she self-deprecatingly calls her dolphin laugh.
"To be in a number, silly."
