End Game - Taylor Swift

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Rose 🌹🌹          ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ!

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（＾・ﻌ・＾✿）

Alex's POV

I was frantically rummaging through our closet, throwing outfits onto the bed. Taylor stood next to me, watching my chaotic packing with a mixture of amusement and trepidation. 

"we're only going for a week, right? I don't think we need to bring your entire wardrobe."

I shot her a glare, only partially joking.

"Excuse me, I prefer to be prepared for any situation,"

I retorted, grabbing another short and adding it to the ever-growing pile on the bed.

"Right, because the Bahamas is known for its unpredictable weather and sudden costume parties," she teased. 
I just stuck out my tongue at her, returning to my frenzied digging through the closet.

As the chaotic packing continued, my mind was consumed by thoughts of the surprise I had planned for Taylor in the Bahamas.

I was going to propose to her. The ring was already tucked carefully into my suitcase, waiting for the perfect moment. 

Watching her now, amused at my packing frenzy, only made my heart swell more.

After a few minutes of tossing clothes onto the bed, I suddenly felt an overwhelming need to have her close to me.

I turned quickly, wrapping my arms around her from behind. 
She let out a surprised gasp, but I just pressed my face into her back, inhaling her familiar scent.

"Hey, what was that for?" she asked, her voice curious. 

I just held her tighter, not wanting to let go. "I don't know," I mumbled into her back. "I just like being close to you."

She chuckled, her hands coming to rest over mine where they wrapped around her stomach. "You're being clingy today," she observed, her words teasing. 
I just hummed, not denying it. I'd probably be clinging to her for the next week, if I was being honest with myself.

"Oh, right, you have a match today." Taylor's voice broke me out of my thoughts. I pulled my face away from her back, groaning. 

"Don't remind me," I grumbled, the thought of the upcoming match making my stomach knot.

"You're just going to win like you always do," she reassured me, turning in my arms so we were facing each other. 
I just grimaced, not feeling as confident as she was. "Maybe. Or maybe we'll choke and make fools of ourselves."

Taylor, noticing my anxious expression, smiled reassuringly. "Hey, don't worry about the match. Win or lose, we're still going to the Bahamas. You can either relax there celebrating or relax there drowning your sorrows."

Her words made me laugh, the tension in my stomach slightly easing. She was right, of course. We'd still have our vacation no matter what, but I desperately wanted to win.

"You're going to have to deal with my moping if we lose," I warned her, only half-joking.

"That's a risk I'm willing to take," she said, her voice light
. 
Just imagining her having to listen to me whine about a loss made me chuckle. I really was a terrible sore loser.

Taylor and I were in the living room, going over our packing list one last time. 

My suitcase was sitting open next to me, filled with clothes and supplies for our upcoming trip. I was carefully going through each item, making sure we had everything we might need.