basset hound nightgown t.s

Only Love Could Hurt Like This

Taylors blonde waves smelt of lavender and vanilla soup and washed into my senses as she sat across from me. I was waiting for her to say something. The silence incredibly unbearable, she was in shock, her face in the palms of her hands. The quiet ticking of the wall clock was searing my brain, burning through all my thoughts as the tumultuous air leaving Taylor's lips ate me alive. It felt like an eternity before she said anything.  

"Have you told Freddie yet?" she asked quietly her blue eyes still not meeting mine. I took a deep breath in, shifting in my chair. If you'd have asked me what I was thinking, I would say I was thinking the A/C was on to high, that my pale skin was breaking into goosebumps that most certainly weren't from the situation I was in with Taylor. I would say I wasn't looking at Taylor's face because I loved her and wanted her to give me some sort of recognition. I would say no, I'm looking at her skin because I like her foundation, looking at her lips because it's a shade of lipstick I haven't seen before. Her eye's because I love the ocean, and the sky, and her eyes hold both those things. 

I wasn't just in love with Taylor Alison Swift, I was infatuated, in admiration, adoration. I took in a deep breath, not just to console myself but so I could smell her perfume in case she left this room and the only thing I would remember for the rest of my life would be the way her hips swayed as she walked the way the muscles in her back moved as the left me. 

A dry laugh escaped my lips without me thinking about it, "about me loving you, or about the baby". I could see her pursed lips dip down into a frown and guilt took the sad smile of my face and replaced it with remorse. 

The chair I was sitting in suddenly became the most uncomfortable chair I'd ever sat in, the room suddenly became the stuffiest room, the rug became the ugliest rug I'd ever seen. Even though I'd saved up hundreds to buy one just like it when I moved into my first apartment. Only love could hurt like this, I think. I've been left by so many people, but this was a different feeling. Like losing a soulmate, like finding out the person you were having an affair with was married, but the strongest, deadliest wave of guilt made me stand up in a passion. 

Guilt, because I was hurting more in this second than when my brother died. Guilt because she has a boyfriend who I care about too, who's told me he wants to marry her one day. And live in their picket fence manor with a dozen cat's a little blonde hair and red cheeked babies. I was a wedge in between that. Guilt because I was pregnant with a baby of someone who would love it, love me and yet I can't return that feeling because my heart was in the perfectly manicured, overly soft hands of a woman who I knew I was destroying. 

 "Are you sure?" She says after a while of me pacing around the studio, fiddling with buttons. My lips in a painful wide smile that as tears free rolled down my shiny wet cheeks. I opened my mouth to ask whether she meant me loving her or the baby again. "About the baby". She says before I can. 

"I've known since Melbourne, so yeah I won't be drinking with everyone at the Grammy afterparties tomorrow". I mumble and she nods to herself. I can't bear to look at her expression, so I remain with my back to her while I change settings on the amps that don't need changing. "I'm, really sorry that, that I didn't tell you sooner about everything". 

"How long have you known that you," she swallows and my heart burns. She can't even say it. The thought must disgust her. 

"That I love you? Since last year. Before Christmas." 

"Fuck" She curses under her breath, and I take it as an insult even though I know it's not. 

"I'll do literally whatever you want me too, leave the tour, leave you alone. You can leave if you want". I say as my tears land on the dashboard to the control panel I'm standing in front of. The clothes on my body are so tight, the room seems to have zero air flow. I can barely breathe. Sometimes at late nights, in hotel rooms a few doors down from her I'd thought about what she would say if I told her I loved her. Most of them had gone bad, but I didn't think I would feel this broken. She'd become my security blanket, the head taps, warm hugs, fuzzy socks, hot cups of cocoa. Taylor had become my home. I felt homesick, yet she was still in a magenta velvet loveseat behind me. So, close I could touch her, hear her breathing. 

"Do you want me to go?" She asks and I can hear the raise in pitch of voice. I want so terribly to turn and see if she's crying but my feet feel as though they've been concreted into the floor, my body as if I'm an ice statue. That only her gaze could melt. 

"No" I reply, but it sounds more like a hollow breath or shaky sob. I stop playing with the levers and buttons and collapse to my knees lying my forehead on the controls as grief overcomes me. I should've ignored Taylors invite to the football game. I should've stayed home and watched two thousand music videos drinking too much wine as I wallowed in self-pity because then I wouldn't be this stuck. 

"I don't want you to leave the tour". Comes her voice after pitiful silence, I fear she only gives me so I can gather myself. 

"Okay". Does she think I would say anything else? She has me in the palms of her hands. She has for months. The difference is now she knows. 

"I shouldn't have kissed you, or led you on, or made you come over so much-" 

"Taylor," I stand up and finally turn to look at her, "we are grown women. It was fifty fifty. Two mouths. I had a choice. It's not your fault". She finally see's my tear-stained cheeks, swollen lips, red-rimmed eyes. Her eyes flicker to my chest where my ribcage moves up and down heavily as I breathe. 

The navy jeans and purple blouse I'm wearing can't hide the way my heart is naked for her, the way her eyes trace my figure of vulnerability. "Lucile, I have a meeting in fifteen minutes with Tree about tomorrow, I can reschedule we can talk I". 

"Go," She looks up at me sadly. "Just go". She stands sadly her handbag dangling from her shoulder. She begins to walk out and pauses before she gets to the door, turning back and looking at me with eyes full of pity that stabs me in my crimson heart. "Please". "Please just go". 

When the door clicks shut behind her, I drop right there on the floor. My ears ring painfully as I cry in silence, my ribs aching with every sob. I'm done for. I can't survive this. 

Should I get a horse tattoo for the death of us too?

POLL: Taylor Swift or Gracie Abrams fanfiction next. That I will actually update frequently. That will be my main focus. Please vote here. Just comment. :)

Also, I'm super proud of this chapter. I'm GOnnaaa cryyyy.