Tayvis One-Shots

a perfect morning

Taylor's POV

The soft glow of morning light filtered through the bedroom window, casting a warm golden hue over everything it touched. I blinked awake, barely opening my eyes, and felt the familiar weight of his arm draped over my waist, holding me close. He was still asleep, his breath soft and even, warm against my shoulder.

Without thinking, I brushed my hand over his cheek, my fingers trailing lightly over his skin. I could hardly believe he was here with me, that I got to wake up next to him like this. It was simple, but it felt like a privilege, one I never wanted to take for granted.

He stirred slightly, letting out a quiet murmur, and I thought maybe he'd fall back asleep. But then his eyes fluttered open, and a sleepy smile spread across his face as he looked at me.

"Morning," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. He tightened his arm around my waist, pulling me even closer.

"Good morning," I whispered back, smiling as I reached up to trace a finger along his jawline. "Sleep well?"

He nodded, his eyes crinkling in that way that made my heart flip. "Best sleep I've had in a while," he murmured, brushing his thumb over my hip. "Can't imagine why."

I rolled my eyes playfully, but my smile grew wider. "Could it be the luxury of my extra-soft pillows?" I teased.

He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made me feel warm all over. "Nope, pretty sure it's got something to do with the person in bed with me," he said, pulling me into a kiss before I could respond. His lips were soft, lingering, and I melted into it, savoring the lazy sweetness of the moment.

When we finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine, both of us still smiling.

"You have any big plans today?" he asked, running his hand up and down my arm absentmindedly. I knew that tone—it was hopeful, like he wanted to spend the whole day exactly like this.

I shook my head. "I was thinking of making coffee... maybe some pancakes," I replied, grinning. "You sticking around for breakfast?"

"Try and stop me," he murmured, leaning in for another kiss.

A few minutes later, we stumbled into the kitchen, still half-asleep, and I started gathering ingredients while he set out the coffee mugs and began pouring. He was talking about some funny story from practice last week, his voice lively even as he yawned between sentences. I loved this side of him—the relaxed, everyday Travis who could make me laugh over something as simple as spilling coffee grounds on the counter.

I handed him a whisk. "Here, let's see those pancake skills."

He looked at the whisk, then back at me, feigning offense. "Excuse me, I happen to be a pancake-making pro," he said, but the look of uncertainty on his face said otherwise.

I laughed, stepping in to guide his hand as he stirred. "You just have to keep it moving, like this," I said, my hands over his as we whisked the batter together. He watched me, and I realized his attention had shifted completely off the batter and onto me.

"Yeah," he said softly. "Like this."

We fell quiet, just sharing a moment in the quiet morning light, the smell of coffee filling the kitchen. My heart skipped a beat. I had never thought making pancakes could feel this special.

After we poured the batter onto the griddle, he wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. We watched the pancakes cook, the batter bubbling softly, and I leaned back into him, closing my eyes for a moment and letting myself savour the feeling of being in his arms.