delicate (tayvis one shots)

in a cafe, i watched it begin again

The bell above the diner door jingled, and Taylor Swift glanced up from her coffee. Travis Kelce walked in, the morning sun casting a golden halo around his broad frame. His usual flannel shirt stretched across his shoulders as he made his way to the counter, nodding at a few locals who greeted him along the way.

"Morning, Swift," he said, sliding onto the stool beside her as if it was routine. And in a way, it was. Every day for the past year, Taylor had found herself at this tiny town diner, away from the spotlight, away from the chaos of her life. And Travis, the diner's owner, was always there, making sure her coffee cup never ran dry.

"Morning, Kelce," she replied, smirking. "You're late."

"Big day at the diner," he joked, tossing her a grin that was as warm as the coffee he poured. "Had to wrangle a delivery truck."

They had fallen into an easy rhythm over the months. Taylor was drawn to Travis's no-nonsense attitude, his way of treating her like anyone else, even though she knew he had recognized her the moment she first walked in. He never asked about her career, never tried to pry into her life. He just offered her coffee, conversation, and space—things she hadn't realized she needed so badly.

"You sticking around today?" Travis asked, leaning on the counter. His eyes, the color of a stormy sky, flickered with something unreadable.

Taylor shrugged, stirring her coffee absentmindedly. "Not sure. Might head back to the city later."

Travis nodded, but Taylor could sense something in the way his jaw tightened. She'd seen that look before—like he wanted to say something but wasn't sure if he should.

"You're always going back," he said after a moment, his voice softer.

"I have to," she replied quietly. "It's where my life is."

"But what if it didn't have to be?" His words hung in the air, heavy and charged.

Taylor's breath caught. It wasn't the first time Travis had hinted at something more between them, but it was the first time he'd been this direct. They'd always skirted around it, the unspoken connection that simmered just below the surface.

"I..." she began, unsure of what to say. "Travis, my life is complicated."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm not asking for uncomplicated, Taylor. I'm asking if you've ever thought about what it might be like if you stayed. Even just for a little while longer."

Taylor looked down at her coffee, the steam curling up between them like a barrier she wasn't sure she was ready to cross. Staying. The idea had crossed her mind more times than she wanted to admit. She liked the quiet life here, the routine, the anonymity. And she liked Travis—more than she was willing to let on.

But her world was built on motion. Tours, album releases, interviews. Staying meant slowing down, and slowing down meant facing feelings she wasn't ready to confront.

"I don't know how to stay still," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Travis reached across the counter, his large hand gently brushing hers. "Maybe you just haven't had the right reason to try."

Her heart raced at his touch, the sincerity in his eyes. She had always been running—away from heartbreak, away from the chaos of fame. But here, in this tiny diner with Travis looking at her like she was the only person that mattered, she wondered what it might be like to stop running.

"I can't promise anything," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

"I'm not asking for promises," Travis replied, his hand still resting over hers. "I'm just asking for a chance."