yours sincerely, daisy. - taylor swift

11

The after-party had become a blur of faces, lights, and clinking glasses. Taylor found herself drifting from one conversation to another, always aware of where Daisy was in the room. She couldn't help it—her attention snapped back to her constantly, like some invisible string connected them. And the way Daisy had looked at her earlier, when Taylor stepped in at the bar—there had been something in her eyes. Relief, yes. Gratitude. But also something deeper, something that made Taylor's pulse race just a little faster.

But now, as the night wore on, Taylor noticed Daisy's laughter growing louder, her movements looser. She had lost count of how many glasses of champagne Daisy had downed, and though it was charming at first—the way Daisy let her guard down, how carefree she seemed—now it made Taylor uneasy.

Across the room, Daisy swayed lightly on her feet, another drink in hand, her laughter ringing out as she spoke to a group of fellow actors. Taylor watched as she teetered, just slightly, enough for her to know Daisy was well past her limit.

She excused herself from the conversation she was in, making her way across the crowded floor, her eyes locked on Daisy. The lightness in the air from earlier had shifted into something heavier, more fragile. She didn't like it.

By the time she reached her, Daisy was giggling at something a co-star said, though the words were slurring a bit at the edges. Taylor touched her arm gently. "Hey," she said, her voice low, intimate in a way that wasn't meant to be overheard.

Daisy turned to her, her green eyes glassy but lighting up at the sight of Taylor. "Heyyy, Tay-lor," she said, stretching out her name in that tipsy sing-song way that would've been cute if it weren't for the edge of recklessness creeping in.

"You okay?" Taylor asked, her voice steady but a little sharper, her hand lingering on Daisy's arm, grounding her. "I think you've had enough for tonight."

Daisy blinked, frowning slightly as if trying to process the words. Then she smiled—an easy, carefree smile that only alcohol could summon. "I'm fine. Just... celebrating. Isn't that what we're supposed to do?" Her words were light, but there was an underlying exhaustion, a brittleness Taylor could sense.

Taylor's grip on her arm tightened just slightly. "Celebrating is one thing. But you're starting to get a little wobbly. Come on, let's get you some air."

But Daisy wasn't ready to listen. She laughed again, a sound that was louder than it should've been. "I'm good, really." She took another sip of her drink, but Taylor was faster, gently pulling the glass from her hand before she could finish it.

"That's enough." Taylor's voice was firm but soft, the kind of tone that left no room for argument, but Daisy's tipsy brain didn't seem to register the warning. She pouted, looking at Taylor with wide, playful eyes, as if testing her.

"You're no fun," Daisy said, poking Taylor in the chest, a half-smile playing on her lips.

Taylor's jaw clenched, but her eyes softened. "I'm trying to make sure you don't make a fool of yourself, Daisy."

There was a flicker in Daisy's expression, a brief glimpse of vulnerability that surfaced through the haze of alcohol. But then she giggled again, stepping forward, too close. "And why do you care so much?" she teased, her voice softer, more intimate now, almost a whisper. The space between them shrank, and the air felt heavy, charged.

Taylor's breath caught in her throat. Daisy's eyes were on hers, big and searching, that playful, drunken challenge still there, but also something else. Something deeper.

She leaned in, her lips dangerously close to Taylor's ear. "Why are you always saving me?"

Taylor froze, the warmth of Daisy's breath brushing against her ear sending a ripple down her spine. The words lingered between them, hanging in the space that was far too close, far too intimate for where they stood, surrounded by the noise and chaos of the after-party. The air felt thick with something unsaid, something they both felt but never quite acknowledged.