Endzone

Tour Injuries (part 2)

A/N this is Sort of a continuation of tour  injuries. I forgot I wrote this. I think I liked the idea and forgot I wrote this too.  This is more of Taylor getting frustrated by the fussing after she hurts her ankle on tour.  p.s. I'm so not ready for eras to end 😭

"Seriously, Tay, you need to sit down," Travis said, his eyes fixed on her with a concern that bordered on obsession. Taylor  rolled her eyes and tried to take another step forward, only for him to dart in front of her and hold her elbow firmly.

The kitchen's cold tiles seemed to mock her with their unforgiving stare as she glanced down at her bandaged ankle. She had twisted it earlier that month , and while it was nothing more than a sprain, Travis was acting like she had just shattered it into a million pieces.

"It's fine, Trav," she protested, her voice laced with a hint of exasperation. "It's just a sprain. I've had worse while on tour." 

He frowned, his brows furrowing into a deep 'V'. "That's not the point," he said, his voice a gentle rebuke. "You could make it worse if you don't let it heal properly."

Taylor sighed, the tension in her chest deflating like a balloon. She knew he was right, but the suffocation of his overprotectiveness was stifling. "Okay, okay," she conceded, allowing herself to be guided to the couch. She plopped down onto the cushions with a dramatic huff, watching as he hovered over her, carefully elevating her foot on some plush pillows 

Her eyes traced the path of the bandage from her toes to her lower calf, the white fabric a stark contrast against her skin. It was a reminder of her mortality, something she rarely had to face in the glittering bubble of her superstar life. She reached for the ice pack on the coffee table and placed it on her ankle with a wince. 

Travis hovered around her, his six-foot-five frame seemingly taking up every inch of space in the room. "Can I get you anything?" he asked for the umpteenth time, his hands restless at his sides.

"I'm fine," Taylor said, her voice a little sharper than she intended. She immediately felt guilty. It wasn't his fault that she was feeling trapped. "Just a glass of water, please."

Travis nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. She heard the fridge open and close, the clink of ice against glass. The sound of his footsteps was soothing, a constant reminder of his presence, but it also made her feel like a burden. She leaned back into the couch cushions and closed her eyes, listening to the muffled noises of the TV in the background. When he returned, he handed her the water with a soft smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Thanks," she murmured, taking a sip. The cool liquid washed over her parched throat, and she felt a bit of her tension dissipate. She studied him as he sat down on the floor beside her, his gaze never leaving her ankle. "You're worried about me, aren't you?"

"Of course, I am," he said, his voice filled with genuine care. "I love you."  

Taylor felt a pang of affection for the man who had swept her off her feet, quite literally in some cases. That said, his constant fussing was starting to wear on her nerves. She took a deep breath and leaned forward, placing the water on the table. "Look, I know you're just trying to help, but I'm really okay.. I can still do things for myself." 

Travis's expression fell, and she immediately felt guilty for snapping at him . He had only been trying to care for her. His constant hovering was becoming a bit much, but  she knew that his worry was born from love.   she had to find a way to balance her own need for independence with his need to protect her. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice softer now. "I just need a little space, okay?"