yours sincerely, daisy. - taylor swift

19

Daisy watched as Taylor moved about the room, the soft lighting casting shadows across the space. Taylor tossed her a spare t-shirt and a pair of shorts, something comfortable to sleep in. "You'll be more comfortable in these," she said, her voice casual, though there was a warmth behind it.

Daisy caught the clothes with a small smile. "Thanks."

The next morning, Daisy woke to the soft light filtering through the curtains. The unfamiliar scent of Taylor's sheets, mixed with the faint smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen, was the first thing she noticed. She stretched carefully, her ankle still a bit tender but feeling better after the rest.

She could hear the quiet shuffle of Taylor in the other room, and for a moment, Daisy let herself lie there, enjoying the peacefulness of the morning. It was surreal—waking up in Taylor Swift's apartment, but in some strange way, it already felt familiar. Comfortable.

A few minutes later, Taylor appeared in the doorway, a mug of coffee in hand and a soft, slightly crooked smile on her face. "Good morning."

Daisy sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Morning."

"I made coffee," Taylor said, stepping further into the room and handing Daisy the mug. "I figured you could use some before you head back to set."

Daisy took the mug, grateful for the warmth in her hands. "You're a lifesaver." She took a sip and sighed contentedly. "I don't want to move."

Taylor sat on the edge of the bed, her expression soft but teasing. "You don't have to rush off just yet. But I know they'll be expecting you."

Daisy groaned dramatically, falling back onto the pillows. "Don't remind me. I swear they think we're actually running through those maze scenes."

Taylor laughed softly. "You do put yourself through a lot on that set."

"Comes with the territory," Daisy muttered, though there was a fondness in her voice. She loved the work, even the grueling parts. But right now, the thought of leaving the cozy warmth of Taylor's apartment felt harder than it should.

Taylor glanced at Daisy, her eyes lingering for a moment longer. "I'll drop you off at the set," she offered.

"You don't have to," Daisy replied, though the offer made her heart flip.

"I know," Taylor said, her tone gentle but firm, "but I want to."

A little while later, after getting ready and making sure her ankle was wrapped securely, Daisy found herself back in Taylor's car. The morning air was crisp, and the city was slowly waking up around them. Taylor drove with a quiet ease, her sunglasses on, her hand resting casually on the steering wheel. It wasn't a long drive, but it felt different this time—more familiar, like they had fallen into a rhythm without even realizing it.

As they pulled up to the set, the usual buzz of production greeted them. Crew members were milling about, and Daisy could already see a few of her co-stars getting into position for the day's shoot.

Taylor parked, but neither of them moved to get out just yet. Daisy turned to her, feeling a little reluctance about stepping back into the chaos of work.

"Thanks for everything," Daisy said, her voice soft but sincere. "I know this wasn't part of the plan."

Taylor smiled, her hand brushing Daisy's briefly on the console. "You don't have to thank me. I wanted to help."

Taylor leaned over and pressed a soft, quick kiss to Daisy's temple, her lips lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

"Take care of yourself today," Taylor said quietly.