If He Wanted to, He Would

When She's Sick

It is the light of the early morning sun shining through the window and onto her face that wakes Taylor up at far too early of an hour. She starts to shift, waking up, and her eyes pop open at the sensation of hard tile underneath her body. She's stunned at first, confused, why is she on the floor? Then the memories of last time flood back and she shudders. She had spent all night throwing up not sure if she had ever thrown up so much in her life. It had been disgustingly painful as vomited and dry heaved multiple times throughout the night. In between bouts of puking she'd lay on the cold tile, shivering and aching. Taylor had yearned for her bed, the coolness of the crisp white sheets against her skin and the softness mattress would soothe her feverish, aching body but she'd stayed on the floor. The distance between the toilet and the bed of this hotel room was extravagant and Taylor was too nauseated to entertain the idea of running back and forth in her state.

This sickness, flu, virus, whatever it was, had come on fast and ferociously. She had been fine all of yesterday, maybe a little tired but that wasn't surprising given her tour schedule, and the show had gone perfectly. It was after her show, back at the hotel when her stomach started to hurt. The water she'd drank throughout the show had been churning in her gut uncomfortably and her sweat began prickling at her skin in a way that made her shiver. Needing a bathroom badly and with the feeling she would need it for a while, Taylor had excused herself, faking a call from Travis so escape the watchful eyes of her parents and team. It had taken a bit for the vomiting to start but once it started, it didn't stop. 

True to her word though she had called Travis. Who was evidently worried and responded with adequate sympathy, even offered to fly out to her. Taylor denied his offer, while sweet, he had practice and she was probably contagious anyway. Besides, it was without a doubt an empty offer. Something he'd say to seem like a supportive partner but didn't plan on following through and had only said it predicting she'd reject it, like she had. She'd seen that film before, empty offers to assuage guilt. Joe had said he come visit her so many times and never had. There had been one occasion, early in their relationship, when Taylor had been struggling to get herself out of bed in the morning, Joe offered to come, she accepted, and then his next phone call was rescinding the offer. He had a meeting. He always had meetings when she needed him or when he promised to be there. 

An ever so familiar weak feeling returns to the back of her throat, coupled with a cramp in her stomach. It's seconds before saliva is rushing into her mouth and she had to leverage herself over the toilet bowl again to be sick. Fuck. She whimpers and crumbles sideways back to the ground when it's over. 

The grout in between the tiles rubs against the outer portion of her upper arms and, fuck, it feels like it's grating against her skin. She wants to move her arm out from under her but knows if she does the stupid tiles will get into contact with her ribcage and stomach. God only knows how much that will hurt. Right when she feels settled enough, the pain on her arm dulling, a wave of cold gushes over her body and she starts shivering again. For a second she considers getting her phone out to call her mom, something she hadn't done over fear of worrying them or worse, having them suggest reschedule tonights concert. 

"Tay?" a voice called out. Her breath hitches, is she hallucinating? The voice sounds like its close and it sounds an awful lot like Travis who should be in Kansas City. 

"Baby?" it calls again. There is no way he is here right now. She must be imagining things. Probably from her fever running higher than she had thought. It would be nice to have Travis here though. Nice to have a strong and warm body to embrace her and tell her she'd feel better soon. 

"Here" she calls out anyway. Then the door is opening and light from the main room is flooding in and over her. Taylor opens her eyes and peers of to see a gigantic body looming over her. She knows in an instant that body can only belong to one person. 

"Taylor, holy shit" he gasps, squatting down to take a look at her. He places a large and warm hand on her forehead and that's when she knows he's real. Travis is there, anchoring her with a palm across her forehead. By the expression on his face Taylor can deduce that she probably looks like shit. Well who wouldn't after a night on a tile bathroom floor, dozing in between vomiting sessions. 

"I- I said not to come" she stuttered because she did and she had meant it. 

"Like I was going to listen to that," he scoffed, standing back up. Taylor watches as Travis' socked feed step around her and over to the sink. The tap turns on and moments later he joins her on the floor. "Let's get you sitting up. Are you keeping anything down?"

She shakes her head, no she hasn't but she also hadn't tried. Taylor doesn't want to sit up and she definitely doesn't want to drink any of the water Travis had filled the hotel provided glass cup with. But his hands are around her, helping guide her into a seated position and then rotate her body so she can lean her back against his chest. Instantly, the chilled, aching, shivers that had been wracking her body stop. He's warm and strong and so, so easy for her to melt into. 

"Here, try a sip" he said, holding the glass up to her lips. Taylor wants to turn her head away but she feels the need to comply. Travis is here, travelled halfway across the country on an overnight flight to hold her on the floor while she probably smells like sweat and stale puke, definitely not the dazzling and put-together girl he was used to. So, yeah, she feels like the least she can do is obey is suggestions. 

She brings her hand up too to help guide the glass towards her mouth. After a couple tentative sips, she pushes it away in fear her stomach will throw it in reverse. 

"Good job" he cooed, placing a tender kiss on her cheek. A clinking noise signals he's placed the glass down and then that arm wraps around her too. Taylor lets her head fall back against his shoulder, closing her eyes. 

"You shouldn't be here" she breathed out. "I'm probably going to get you sick." It's an anxiety that for some reason she had always held. Well held since she had entered the dating seen. In that moment she tries to think back if any of her previous significant others had willingly cared for her. She doesn't think so. Joe definitely didn't, he was pretty germaphobic in nature. Anytime either of them wasn't well, Joe would keep them apart. 

"So, what?" Travis shrugged. "I get sick, I get sick. I'll get over it. Right now, though, we need to focus on you getting over this." He kisses her cheek again, tucking his face into her neck. While its sweet and Taylor is enjoying the feeling of his cheek against her and his breath down her back, she knows she probably smells awful. 

"Babe, don't put your face there. I definitely stink."

She feels his chest move up and down in a chuckle.

"I wasn't going to say anything. But now that you did, let's brush your teeth and get you in the bath for a bit."

"Ugh" its instant regret at mentioning her stench as his suggestion will involve moving and she had just settled into his arms. Finally, experiencing relief. Even her nausea was settling slightly.

"C'mon swamp breath" he kidded, nudging at her. "We gotta get you clean so we can get into bed and I can cuddle you all day." It's the prospect of day long cuddles, and not the affectionately placed insult, that gets her moving.