The clock on the studio wall reads 2:30 AM, and yet neither of you feel tired. The dim light, the soft hum of the recording equipment, and the warm, creative atmosphere make it feel like time doesn't exist here. You sit on the couch in the corner, watching Taylor Swift as she plays the same guitar riff for what feels like the twentieth time, searching for the right chord to match the lyrics she's been working on.
"Almost there," Taylor mutters, strumming the guitar absently, her brow furrowed in concentration.
"You've been 'almost there' for the past hour," you tease, smiling softly at her dedication.
She looks up at you with a grin, her eyes gleaming with the spark of someone deeply in her creative zone. "That's the price of perfection, right?"
You chuckle, shaking your head. "Whatever you say, Swift."
Taylor puts down the guitar for a moment and stretches, her hoodie riding up slightly as she raises her arms above her head. You've spent a lot of time together in this studio over the past few months, and though it started as just hanging out while she worked, there's been an undeniable shift between you. The long hours, the late-night conversations, the inside jokes—it's all added up to something you can't quite put your finger on.
"You've been such a good sport about this," Taylor says, moving over to sit beside you on the couch. "I know it must be boring to watch me play the same thing over and over."
"Are you kidding?" you reply, nudging her playfully. "I love watching you create. It's incredible seeing how your mind works."
She laughs softly, her voice a little tired but filled with affection. "You're sweet. I don't know what I'd do without you here."
There's a moment of silence. The kind that feels loaded with something unspoken. The studio feels smaller, cozier with Taylor sitting so close, her knee brushing against yours.
You swallow hard, trying to push away the butterflies in your stomach. You've been holding back your feelings for her for months now, unsure of how to say anything without ruining what you have. But in this quiet, intimate space, with just the two of you and the soft glow of the recording lights, it feels like maybe just maybe, it's time.
TBC....
