guilty as sin? (tayvis)

now pretty baby i'm running back home to you

Taylor had never felt more caged in her life.

She was pacing around her living room, the walls pressing in like the bars of a jail cell. Her thoughts were running wild, her emotions tangled and frayed, every step mirroring the lyrics of a song she'd started to write earlier that day—Fresh Out the Slammer

The raw intensity of the track had hit her hard. The frustration, the anger, the need to break free—it all resonated too deeply. The song was about a man who'd just been released from prison, tasting freedom for the first time, but as Taylor stood there, she couldn't help but feel like the prisoner. She was trapped in her own mind, locked in her guilt, regret, and confusion. And now, Joe was gone. It was over.

But somehow, it didn't feel like freedom. It felt like a punishment.

The doorbell rang, pulling her from her spiraling thoughts. Taylor sighed, knowing exactly who it would be before she even reached for the door.

Travis.

She hadn't responded to his texts after she told him about Joe. And now he was here, standing on her doorstep, looking as if he'd been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. His eyes were dark, intense, almost desperate. She could tell he was nervous, but there was a fire in him she hadn't seen in a long time.

"Hey, Tay," he said quietly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. He looked around the room, his gaze landing on her guitar and the half-written lyrics scribbled on a notepad nearby. "You've been writing."

She shrugged, feeling the tension between them swell. "I had to do something with all this... energy."

"Yeah." Travis walked further into the room, the air thick with everything unsaid between them. He glanced at her guitar again, then back at her. "You should write a song called Fresh Out the Slammer. It fits."

Taylor's heart skipped at his words, the reference hitting her harder than it should. He knew. He always knew. It was like he could see right through her, past the walls she'd built up to protect herself. But there was no protection here. Not from him.

"I feel like I'm trapped, Trav. I thought it would feel like freedom when Joe left, but it's just... it's worse."

Travis sat beside her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him, but he didn't touch her. Not yet. He was waiting, giving her space, but his eyes were burning with something fierce. Something dangerous.

"You're not trapped, Tay," he said, his voice low, almost a growl. "You're free. You just don't realize it yet."

She scoffed, running a hand through her hair. "Free to do what? To make another mistake? To hurt you? To love you?"

He didn't flinch. "Maybe. But you've been holding back for too long. You've been locked up in a prison of your own making, and it's time to break out."

His words sent a shiver down her spine, and for the first time in days, she felt a flicker of something other than pain. It was anger, maybe. Frustration. Or was it desire? She didn't know anymore. She just knew she couldn't keep running from it.

"I don't know how to do that," she whispered, her voice breaking with the weight of her confession.

"You do," Travis said firmly, leaning closer. "You've been locked up, but now you're out. Fresh out the slammer, Tay. What is the first thing you're gonna do?"

Taylor stared at him, her breath catching in her throat. The fire in his eyes was contagious, igniting something deep within her that she hadn't felt in so long. She wanted to break free. She wanted to stop hiding.