So High School

Drunken Fight (pt2)

TW

The next morning Travis woke with the worst hungover ever. He dragged himself off the sofa, stumbling over to the cupboard and taking a paracetamol from the box. After swallowing it down with some water he pushed the pain aside, knowing that he needed to fix what had happened.

Firstly, he went to his secret stash of alcohol. He unlocked the cupboard and grabbed the three bottles in there, going over to the bin and chucking them away. Then he went back into the kitchen and started making breakfast; pancakes. Taylor's favourite.

About ten minutes later Taylor padded down the stairs, dressed in one of Travis's hoodies and shorts.
"Hey" she smiled as she entered the kitchen, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. The underlying tension and anger was still prominent, though pushed back.
"You're up early" she commemted, heading to the fridge to grab some water.

"Yeah" Travis replied, putting the pancakes onto a plate. "I made breakfast" Taylor turned around, her face an expression of surprise.
"I-I wanted to apologise Tay, for last night. I know that what I did was wrong, and I know that-" Taylor cut him off, picking up the plate from the side.
"Can we talk about this later?" She asked quietly, sitting down at the table. Travis nodded silently, grabbing his own plate and sitting opposite her.

The pair ate their breakfast in silence, the only interruptions the scraping of cutlery against the plates.
"Thanks Trav, that was delicious" Taylor said when she was done, picking up her plate and taking it over to the sink. She started running the water, scrubbing furiously with the brush.

"Tay?" Travis asked after a while, moving to stand next to her.
"Hm?" Came the reply, Taylor not looking up.
"Can we talk? Now? We can't put off this conversation forever"

Taylor sighed, turning off the tap and placing the things in her hands down. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself before turning to Travis.
"Lets go to the sofa" he held out a hand which he took, and so he led them into the living room. They sat down on the oppoise ends of the couch, the space between them wide and deliberate.

Travis looked towards her, seeing her staring at the carpet. He gave her a second to start talking, and when she didn't he took a breath.
"Tay" he started, his voice sincere and apologetic. "I know what I did was wrong, and I know that I said I would get better. I was trying, I really was, and I will try again. For real this time"

"Travis" Taylor whispered, her voice quiet. "I... I know you didn't mean it, and I know you're trying but... I need you to try harder" her voice cracked as she took a deep breath. "After... After the accident, I just... Trav, I need you to try harder"
"I know Tay, I promise I will" he scooted towards her, not getting too close so he didn't cross any boundaries.

A beat passed and then Taylor lifted her hand shyly.
"Pinky promise?" She whispered, holding out her little finger.
"Pinky promise" Travis confirmed, smiling. His finger hooked onto hers, forming a bond, a promise that couldn't be broken.

Taylor collapsed into his body, her head resting on his shoulder. Travis put one arm around her, the other taking her hand gently. He pressed a kiss to her head, just relishing in the closeness.

"I miss her" Taylor whispered, her voice cracking as a tear rolled down her cheek.
"I know sweetheart, I do too. Every day" Travis replied gently, holding back his own waterworks.

Taylor lifted the sleeve of her jumper, gently running a finger over the scar on her forearm. Her mind cast back to that fateful night, the night where she fought for her own life beside her baby, the night where she lost one of the people that meant the most to her.

"She would be four" Taylor murmered, her voice barely audible.
"Yeah" Travis replied quietly, his mind thinking back to that night too.

The guilt he felt as he sat beside his wife as she fought for her life, already laden with the news of his newborns death. The moment he was declared innocent, but part of him wished he got charged. He needed some sort of punishment, some sort of consequence to ruining his lovers life. And his newborn baby, he'd never forget the silence that followed after the crash, the silence that still haunted him in his sleep. The screaming and crying from his wife when she found out the news, how she refused to even look at him for days.

Dorothea Alicia Kelce-Swift, forever 13 months.

A/N I was thinking this earlier lmao like everyone says 'Taylor' in different ways
Like Americans say teylr but I say teyluh and I just think about this all the time lol

Guys I'm so sick but it's okay because I have Maltesers