So High School

You fight, then you talk (pt1)

A/N Travis would never ever ever say anything like this, this is purely fictional (also Taylor is BEAUTIFUL omgg I'm actually jealous of how pretty she is)

TW

"SO FUCKING MATURE TAYLOR. SO MATURE" Travis yelled.
"YEAH WELL MAYBE IF YOU WEREN'T EYEING UP SKINNIER PRETTIER GIRLS EVERY TIME WE GO OUT THEN MAYBE I WOULDN'T BE ACTING LIKE THIS" Taylor was mad. So mad.
"YOU KNOW DAMN WELL I DON'T DO THAT, AND ANYWAY, IF I WAS EYEING UP SKINNIER GIRLS? WHO COULD BLAME ME. LOOK AT YOU" Travis whacked the table, his anger taking over him. A glass filled with water flew across the table, smashing onto the floor with a loud crash, making Taylor flinch. Glass shards scattered across the floor.

As soon as it happened Travis clamped a hand over his mouth, regretting every word. He tried to apologise, but Taylor was too fast and cut him off.
"YOU KNOW WHAT?! FUCK YOU TRAVIS. FUCK YOU." Taylor screamed back, her face red with anger.
"Get out" she whispered under her breath.
"What?" Travis asked, slightly taken aback.
"Get out!" Taylor shouted, pointing a shaky finger towards the door. Travis stormed out, blind with range.

The door slammed shut behind him and Taylor stood, frozen. She stumbled over to the front door, swearing as a piece of glass cut to the bottom of her foot. She couldn't believe that had just happened. Suddenly it all hit her in a wave and she collapsed against the door, sobbing into her hands. The best fucking relationship she had ever had, possibly gone all because she was too fucking insecure.

Travis got into his car and drove to the nearest bar. Rage was still controlling him, but there was a slight underlying feeling of guilt. He knew he shouldn't have said that. He knew it wasn't true, that he didn't mean it. But did Taylor?

He got out of the car and entered the bar, immediately ordering a drink and sitting down. He had been there for about half an hour when a girl approached him.

A little younger, maybe mid twenties? Black hair, blue eyes, pearly skin. Her face was set out like a models, and it was obvious she had plastic surgery done. And her body. She was skinny, so skinny, but her ass and boobs? Perfection.

Travis immediately looked away, knowing this wasn't right. She wasn't his type anyway.
"Heyy" the girl greeted him in a flirty voice, running her finger down his arm.
"You wanna..." The girl raised her eyebrows suggestively, but Travis just cringed.

Yes, maybe she did look like a model. Yes, maybe her body was perfect. Yes, maybe every guy she saw wanted to hit on her.

But not Travis.

Travis had his girl. His Taylor who was the most beautiful girl alive. His Taylor who was the sweetest, kindest, most lovely woman he had ever met. His Taylor whos body was perfection, even though that's not what Travis loved her for.

He immediately stood up, chucking some cash onto the counter and setting off towards the door. Ignoring the model girl who was already tracking down her next prey.

The argument replayed in his mind. He had to fix this. He had to be a supportive boyfriend, who calmed Taylor's insecurities, who made her feel worthy, instead of one who ran at the first signs of danger.

He pulled up outside their house. It had been two hours, so maybe Taylor had cooled down a bit. He needed to talk to her. He needed to fix this.

Unlocked the front door, met with silence. The kitchen light was still on, the smashed glass strewn across the floor. A couple of spots of blood by the front door, which Travis hadn't noticed yet.

He made his way up the stairs and down the corridor, peering into every room that he passed. Eventually he reached their bedroom, the door ajar. He slowly eased it open, smiling slightly as the light fell across his girlfriend, curled up in the middle of the bed.

She was in the foetal position, her knees tucked up to her chin. He got a bit closer, just admiring how calm and beautiful she looked. She had a white bandage round her foot, Travis wasn't sure why. But his smile dropped when he saw her face properly. Tear streaks, snaking down her cheeks. And the pillow was damp, beneath her head. He had made her cry. He had made her cry. Usually it was him comforting her when she was crying, but this time it was him. His fault.

He left the room and quietly shut the door behind him, going downstairs to clean up the glass. He decided to go to bed in the guest room, not wanting to cross any of Taylor's boundaries, as much as he wanted to be with her right now. He decided against waking her up after checking the clock and realising it was 2am. And with that, he slipped into a calm, dreamless sleep.

He was up early, flipping pancakes in a pan. He turned around at the sound of footsteps, being met with Taylor in the doorway. She looked adorable in her oversized tshirt, her hair a fluffy cloud around her head. She had only just woken up so she was squinting, sleeping running her eye.

"Taylor" Travis sighed, turning off the hob. Taylor just glared at him, but she looked too cute for it to be taken seriously.

"I am so so so sorry, and I know just a simple apology isn't enough but I have to try. I don't know what got into me, I didn't believe a word I was saying and none of it was true. I promise. I love you so so so much, and I don't know what I'd do without you. And I'm sorry you're feeling insecure, I really am. I didn't handle it like I should; I should've told you you're beautiful, which you are, and that I don't see anyone else other than you. You are the prettiest, kindest, most beautiful, sweetest, sexiest, sweetest woman I've ever seen, and I'm sorry I failed at communicating that across to you. I am genuinely so so so sorry, and I'm praying you forgive me"

Travis took a deep breath, looking into her eyes nervously.
"Im sorry" Taylor cried, flinging herself at Travis and throwing her arms around his neck.
"I love you so much" Travis whispered into her hair as he held her tight.
"I love you too" Taylor cried.

That argument was soon put behind them and the pair went on with their perfect honeymoon phase. At least, that's what Travis thought.

As for Taylor, those few words still lingered in the back of her mind. 'Look at you'. They haunted her wherever she went, and although she knew Travis didn't mean it, it still stung.

It still lead to her weighing herself every morning, watching in pleasure as the numbers decreased.

It lead to her lifting up her shirt in front of the mirror every chance she got, wincing when she saw the fat, pinching at it.

It lead to her running on the treadmill until she couldn't breathe, until the world was spinning.

It lead to her eating smaller portions, full on skipping meals when Travis wasn't around.

You're fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat.

Taylor pinched her arm, adding to the array of bruises that had accumulated there. A colourful painting, outlining the pain she felt when she had to see herself. But it helped. It quietened the voices in her head, let the constant reminder of who she had become stay in the back of her mind.

Her stomach growled, reminding her of the fact that she hadn't eaten for three days. But it felt nice, the emptiness, the pain.

Travis was at practice, and so Taylor went down to the gym, getting onto the treadmill.

One hour. 
Two hours.
Three hours.
Four hours.

It was now 2pm and Travis was due back any moment. Perfect.

Travis was the only thing that could silence those voices completely, most of the time. They would both have a shower, separately of course, then cuddle on the sofa, watch a movie or something.

Taylor slowed to a walk, switching off the treadmill completely. She stepped off, gripping onto the handle as the world spun around her. This was normal. This was good.

But this time it wasn't stopping. Spots clouded her vision, everything sounded like it was underwater. Her vision went black and she fell, hitting her head on the way down. She was lying, sprawled across the floor, dead to the world.

A/N school is SHIT.

Not friendship issues this time tho, I've made new friends (look at me being a social butterfly [I'm not, I panic even thinking about speaking to strangers])