The moonlight had shifted in the sky by the time Taylor settled into the hotel room, casting softer shadows against the walls. She had spent the evening on stage, pouring her heart into every song, but as the final notes faded and the crowd erupted in applause, all she could think about was Travis. The electric energy of the concert felt like a distant echo in her mind; her heart was heavy with concern.
The hotel room felt suffocatingly quiet when she entered. The heavy curtains were drawn, blocking out the outside world, and the air was thick with stillness. She glanced toward the bed, her heart tightening at the sight of Travis sitting there, motionless. The only sound was the faint hum of the air conditioning, which felt almost jarring in the silence.
"Travis?" she called softly, stepping closer.
He didn't respond, his head still nestled in her lap, his face partially hidden by the curtain of hair that fell across his forehead. He had hardly moved since she had arrived, and the longer he stayed like this, the more her anxiety grew. She reached down, gently running her fingers through his hair, feeling the tension in his body. He stirred slightly but didn't wake, a low groan escaping his lips.
"Hey, you," she whispered, hoping to coax him from his slumber. "You need to drink some water. You've been in the dark for too long."
He shifted, opening one eye to squint up at her. "Too bright," he murmured, a weak attempt at a smile breaking through the pain that etched his features.
Taylor's heart ached for him. "I know. But you need to try. Can you sit up for me?"
He nodded slightly, but it took a moment for him to muster the strength to shift away from her. She helped him prop himself up against the headboard, his body still slumped, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. He looked so fragile, his skin pale and his eyes clouded with fatigue.
"Better?" she asked, concern lacing her voice.
"A little," he replied, but his tone was flat, devoid of the usual vibrancy that she loved. It was almost as if he was just going through the motions.
"Let's get you some water," she said, sliding out from underneath him and retrieving a bottle from the bedside table. She unscrewed the cap, held it to his lips, and watched as he took a few hesitant sips, his hand trembling slightly.
"Thanks," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
She could see him struggling, fighting against the fog that had settled in his mind. "Travis, I'm really worried about you. It's been days since that hit, and you don't seem to be improving at all."
"I'm fine," he insisted, but the way he leaned against the headboard told her otherwise.
"No, you're not," she countered gently. "You've hardly moved from this spot. It's not just a headache; you need to see a doctor."
He sighed heavily, sinking back against the pillows, frustration flickering across his face. "I just need time, Tay."
"Time is what I'm worried about." She took his hand, squeezing it tightly. "You're not just resting; you're missing the world outside. I know you love football, and I know how tough this is for you, but you need to be honest with me. How are you really feeling?"
Travis looked away, his eyes drifting toward the darkened window, the streetlights casting faint shadows across the room. "Like I'm losing it," he finally admitted, his voice barely audible. "I hate feeling this way. I just want to be normal again."
Taylor's heart sank at his words. She leaned closer, wrapping her arms around him, resting her chin on his shoulder. "You will be normal again. But you need to give yourself permission to take the time to heal. You can't rush this."
