Guarding Her Heart | t.swift

Chapter 23: Unveiling Vulnerability

Quincy returned to work, her usually stoic demeanour slightly marred by the fresh stitches on her temple. About eight of them, neatly aligned, a stark reminder of the recent events that had happened on her time away. As she stepped into the familiar surroundings, Andrea was the first to notice.

"Oh my goodness, Quin! Look at you!" Andrea fussed, hovering around her with motherly concern. "Are you sure you should be back at work so soon?"

Quin offered a tired smile, waving off Andrea's worries. "I'm fine, Ma'am. Really. It's just a scratch."

Andrea shook her head, not convinced but knowing better than to argue. "If you say so. But take it easy, okay?"

Quin nodded and made her way to the kitchten, where the warm, comforting aroma of baking greeted her. Taylor stood at the counter, a flurry of flour and sugar, her hands deftly working on some new confection.

The blonde looked up as Quincy entered, her eyes lighting up with a mix of relief and something else she quickly pushed aside. It was anchoring to both women.

"Hey, Quincy," Taylor greeted, her voice warm. "How was the flight?"

Quincy sank into a chair, exhaustion etched into her features. "Long," she admitted, rubbing a hand over her face.

Taylor took a moment to really look at Quincy, her concern growing as she noticed the stitches on her temple. The worry she had felt over the recent events she heard of surged to the forefront, and without a second thought, she dropped the dishtowel she was holding and rushed over.

"Oh my God, Quincy!" she exclaimed, cupping Quincy's cheeks gently and turning her head to get a better look at the stitches. "What happened?"

Quincy allowed Taylor to examine her, a rare softness in her usually guarded eyes. As Taylor’s fingers brushed lightly over her temple, Quincy saw flashes of the man who had assaulted Bailey, the fury of that memory igniting within her. But Taylor's touch, the sandalwood scent she always carried, pulled her back from the brink, calming her.

Quincy gently took Taylor's wrists, her touch firm but tender. "It's nothing, Miss Swift. Just a minor incident."

Taylor's eyes remained unconvinced as she searched Quincy's face, still seeing the lingering fury in her eyes. "This doesn't look minor to me," she said softly.

Quincy forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood. "It was probably a trending topic," she joked, though her heart wasn't in it.

Taylor didn't smile. "I don't care what the news says. I want to know the story from you."

Quincy sighed, her fingers still holding Taylor's wrists as she settled back into the chair. Her thumbs brushed hesitantly over the singers wrist, lingering when she felt the thump of her pulse.

"A man touched someone I care about," she began, her voice steady but tight. "She's... He assaulted her, and I handled the situation, but not without a fight... I lost it... He wasn't happy with my assertiveness, and I got these stitches."

As Quincy spoke, the anger flared up again, her body tensing. Taylor, seeing this, gently wrapped her arms around Quincy's sjoulders, pulling her into a comforting embrace. "I didn't enjoy it... he deserved it," Quincy hesitated for a moment, then rested her head on Taylor's chest, listening to the soothing rhythm of her heartbeat. The simple act of being held, of hearing Taylor's heartbeat, both calmed and panicked her, but mostly, it made her feel grounded.

"It's okay," Taylor whispered, her voice a gentle lullaby. "I knew you had a good reason."

Quincy took a deep breath, letting the scent of sandalwood and the warmth of Taylor's embrace wash over her. "Thank you," she murmured. "Thank you for believing me."