I Know Places (Taylor Swift Imagines) (GxG)

"Very Adult of You."

think quarantine, think COVID

think evermore era Tay

this is for my butch girlies!!!

You and Taylor have been roommates for quite a while now, way before lockdown. She's been your best friend since college, and the two of you have lived together ever since.

You’ve always been close, but the lockdown has brought you even closer. With both of your schedules wiped clean, it's been just the two of you in this shared bubble of quiet, intimate moments. The kind of moments where you laugh at nothing, binge-watch terrible reality shows, and learn way too much about each other’s weird habits.

Today feels like one of those calm, easy mornings. You stretch as you get out of bed, pulling on a loose tee-shirt but not bothering with anything else. The smell of something delicious pulls you to the kitchen.

When you walk in, Taylor is standing by the stove, focused on flipping pancakes. Her curly hair is tied up in a messy bun, and she’s humming softly to herself. She’s wearing your tee-shirt, which drapes over her like a dress, and no pants.

It's an adorably enticing sight.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she says without turning around, sensing your presence before she even sees you.

You lean against the doorway, arms crossed, trying to suppress a smile. "You look good in my shirt."

She turns, a playful grin on her lips. "Your wardrobe is much more comfortable than mine. Plus, I look great in everything."

You chuckle, walking over to her. “True.” You peek over her shoulder at the pancakes. “You’ve been holding out on me. Didn’t know you were such a pro at breakfast.”

Taylor shrugs, handing you a fork to taste. “Quarantine skills, I guess. Everyone’s picking up a hobby. Mine’s making sure we don’t live off frozen pizza and popcorn.”

You take a bite and nod approvingly. “Not bad, Swift. Not bad at all.”

Her eyes flicker to your biceps as you reach for the coffee mug on the counter, and she shifts her legs slightly. “You’ve been working out a lot lately, huh?”

“Gotta do something to stay sane,” you say, sipping the coffee she made for you. “Figured I might as well use this time to get a little stronger.”

She smirks, raising an eyebrow. “A little? You’re basically a superhero at this point.”

You laugh and flex a little, teasing her. “What, this?”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a glint of admiration there. “Yeah, yeah, show off.”

You lean against the counter, watching her with a playful smile. "If I didn’t know any better, I'd say you’re trying to impress me with this whole domestic goddess routine."

Taylor flips the last pancake onto the plate and gives you a sly look. "Maybe I am. Or maybe I just don’t want to eat your half-burnt toast for the third time this week."

"Touché," you admit with a laugh.

There’s a comfortable silence between you as Taylor plates the pancakes, setting them on the small table in the corner. You sit across from each other, the quiet of the apartment broken only by the clinking of forks and the soft sound of Taylor’s music playlist still playing in the background.

As you eat, you can feel Taylor’s gaze flicker toward you every now and then, a little more lingering than usual. It’s not the first time you’ve noticed her looking, but today, something feels different. More loaded, like there’s something unsaid in the air between you two.

“You know,” Taylor begins slowly, pushing her plate aside, “I’ve been thinking . . ."

You glance up, curious. “About?”

She hesitates, her fingers tapping against the table. “About how things have been . . . different. Between us, I mean. Since all this started.” Her eyes meet yours, and they’re more serious now, searching.

Your heart skips a beat, but you try to play it cool. “Different how?”

Taylor sighs, leaning back in her chair, pulling at the hem of your tee-shirt she’s wearing. “I don’t know. It’s like . . . we’re not just friends anymore, are we? At least, I don’t feel like we are.”

You swallow, the weight of her words hitting you. "No, I guess we’re not."

The room feels smaller all of a sudden, the air thicker with the tension of unspoken feelings. Taylor bites her lip, then takes a breath. “I guess what I’m trying to say is . . . I like this. Us. Whatever this is. But I need to know if you feel the same.”

Your pulse quickens, but you hold her gaze, knowing this moment has been building for a while now. "I do. I really do."

Taylor lets out a small laugh, almost in disbelief. “God, I’ve been trying to figure out how to say that for weeks.”

You smile, leaning across the table toward her, the space between you narrowing. “Well, you did a good job. Clear communication. Very adult of you.”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling too. “Shut up and come over here.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You push your chair back and stand, moving to her side of the table, and as you sit down beside her, Taylor’s hand finds yours under the table, her fingers lacing through yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world.