The morning sun filtered through the curtains as Travis Kelce woke up, the events of the previous day weighing heavily on his mind. He glanced over at Taylor, who was still asleep, her brow slightly furrowed, and he felt a pang of concern. He knew they needed to talk about her breakdown.
As she stirred awake, Travis took a deep breath, deciding to approach her gently. "Hey, Tay," he said softly, "can we talk?"
Taylor sat up, pulling the blanket tighter around her. "About yesterday?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah. I want to know what's going on," he replied, his gaze steady but warm. "You don't have to be perfect for me. You are more than enough just the way you are."
Tears welled up in her eyes as she began to crack. "But I've been trying so hard to lose weight. I thought if I could just look a certain way..." Her voice trailed off, heavy with emotion.
Travis moved closer, his expression serious yet gentle. "Taylor, that song 'Just the Way You Are' by Bruno Mars? It reminds me of you. You could wear a brown paper bag, and I'd still choose you. I fell in love with you for your personality, for how you light up after finishing a song, not for how you look."
His words wrapped around her like a warm embrace, and she felt the weight of her insecurities begin to lift. "Really?" she asked, her voice shaky.
"Absolutely. You're incredible just as you are," he reassured her, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Let's make sure you're eating properly. I'll start prepping meals for you while I'm at practice."
After a moment, Taylor nodded, feeling a flicker of hope. Travis quickly got to work in the kitchen, making scrambled eggs and biscuits and gravy, careful to portion everything out. When he placed the plate in front of her, he noted the guilt creeping into her expression.
"Tay, I made sure to keep it small. Your stomach isn't used to a lot of food," he reminded her. "Just eat what you can."
With a reluctant sigh, she picked up her fork, and as she began to eat, he settled next to her, offering quiet encouragement. After breakfast, she curled up on the couch, exhaustion taking over. Travis watched her closely, his heart aching with the knowledge that she still felt guilty, even after all he was trying to do for her.
As the days turned into weeks, Travis maintained his routine of preparing meals, but he started to notice the signs when she slipped back into old habits. One night, after practice, he found her plate untouched.
"Taylor," he said, his voice firm but caring. "What's going on? You haven't been eating again."
"I don't know, Travis. I just... I'm trying," she stammered, her eyes downcast.
He sat beside her, gently lifting her chin to meet his gaze. "This isn't about trying. It's about taking care of yourself. I'm here for you. Please let me help you."
That night, after they talked, Taylor felt the heaviness of his concern, but she still struggled internally. She retreated to the bathroom for a shower, the water cascading over her, but as she scrubbed away the worries, the world around her began to blur.
Suddenly, everything went dark.
The hospital lights were dim as Taylor Swift slowly began to regain consciousness, her head throbbing with pain. Her memory was foggy, and for a moment, she struggled to remember where she was or why. Travis was beside her, holding her hand, his face etched with worry.
"Taylor? You're awake," Travis said, his voice low and full of relief as he leaned closer to her.
She blinked a few times, trying to focus on his face. "What... what happened?" she whispered, her voice weak. The last thing she could remember was stepping into the shower.
