tayvis oneshots

scars

taylor's  pov:
i need to stop looking at articles, comments and magazines about me. regardless of what i do, wear, or say, it's always somehow my fault.

travis isn't home right now, it's just me and the cats. the news articles are so consuming, it's the only thing i can think about. but what did i do wrong?

i think about it for a while, no answer appears in my head. i get up from the couch and go to the bathroom, where my razor is.

i pulled off the cap and took out the blades. i debated wether or not to do this, but i knew nothing else was going to relieve the pain.

i slashed deep red cuts into my left wrist, hoping nobody would see them. i sat on the bathroom floor, crying. i don't know what i want to even do with life anymore.

i just sit here and cry all alone for a while, before remembering travis was coming home soon. i didn't want him to be worried about me, so i quickly tried to clean up any blood on the floor and counter.

i put a couple bandaids over my wrists, crying to conceal the scars. i slid on a long sleeve hoodie to be extra sure he wouldn't be able to tell.

travis's pov:
i get home from practice, set my bags down by the door. taylor is usually in the kitchen waiting for me, but i heard her footsteps upstairs, so that's where i went.

she's laying in bed, her eyes look all puffy and red like she's been crying for a while. "babygirl, are you alright? your face is a little red." i ask, sitting next to her in bed.

"yeah. i'm fine." she insisted, although i wasn't very convinced. i didn't want to push her to tell me anything, so i just let it for now. "im gonna shower, cuddles in 15?" i ask, stripping of my clothes, she nodded.

i grab a towel and set it on the counter for after my shower, then i noticed taylor left her razor  out on the counter near the sink.

i went to go pick it up, but it was disassembled, all the pieces were falling apart and the blade was missing.

then it all clicked.

was she hurting herself? did i do something wrong? i certainly hope not. maybe she did just accidentally break her razor, but that seemed unlikely, so the only way to know is to ask.

"babygirl?" i called out, wrapping a towel around my waist. she looks up from her phone, still teary-eyed. "your razor is broken." i said, she shrugged.

"could you tell me why?" i ask, sitting down next to her in bed. "it just broke, okay? it's not a big deal." she said, turning over in bed avoiding making eye contact with me.

"i don't think it just broke. the blade is missing too." i breathed. "have you been hurting yourself?" i asked gently, moving the hair out of her gorgeous face.

"travis, i said i don't want to talk about it." she groaned, trying to move away from me. "i want to make sure your safe baby." i say, wrapping her in my warm embrace.

"i said i don't wanna talk about it, okay?" she said, trying to escape my lap, but considering im twice her size, she didn't have much of a chance.

"no, i can't. if you're hurting yourself, we need to talk about it, yeah? i can help you through this." i insisted, she just rolled her eyes.

she started sobbing uncontrollably, as if something awful had just happened. "i'm sorry travis." she cried, her tears staining my shirt into a darker grey.

"c'mere babygirl. you don't need to apologize, it's not your fault baby." i say, wrapping her in a long tight hug. i just let her cry and cry for as long as she needed to.

a few moments later as her sobs trickled into occasional tears, i was able to get a better understanding of the situation. i felt awful for her, she shouldn't have to go through any of this.

"sweet girl, that's not your fault." i respond, she just shrugged. i let her cry in my arms as much as she needed to, i hated the fact she bottled up all of her feelings.

——
let me know what you think of this one.

PLEASE leave some requests here—>