When Worlds Collide

Wrapped in You

Travis:

I woke up as the first light of morning filtered through the curtains, casting soft golden patterns across the walls. Taylor was curled up in my arms, her face peaceful, her breathing slow and steady. Her hair spilled over my arm like a golden waterfall, and I couldn't help but smile as I looked down at her. She was a vision, more beautiful than anything else in the world.

Carefully, I lifted a hand to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. As I did, she shifted slightly, snuggling closer to me with a soft, sleepy sound that nearly made me chuckle out loud. "You're ridiculously cute when you're asleep, you know that?" I murmured, even though I knew she couldn't hear me.

I leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back. Her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked up at me, a sleepy smile curving her lips. "Good morning," she said, her voice soft and drowsy.

"Good morning, beautiful," I replied, my fingers brushing lightly along her arm. "You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake you."

She stretched against me like a cat, her movements slow and lazy. "You should've let me sleep longer. I was having a dream about pancakes."

I laughed, pulling her closer for a moment before sitting up. "Well, we can make that dream a reality. Come on, let's get some breakfast."

in the kitchen, Taylor tied her hair into a loose bun, a few wispy strands escaping to frame her face. She rummaged through the cabinets, pulling out ingredients and setting them on the counter. flour, sugar, baking powder, milk, eggs, and a bottle of vanilla extract.

After a quick shower, I threw on a pair of dark jeans and a gray Henley, while Taylor went to the closet. I watched as she picked out her outfit, her brows furrowing slightly in concentration. She settled on a flowy cream blouse with delicate lace detailing, tucked into high-waisted light-wash jeans, and paired it with a pair of tan ankle boots.

"You look amazing," I said as she turned to me, her hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders.

She smiled, grabbing her leather jacket and tossing it over her arm. "You're not looking too bad yourself."

 in the kitchen, Taylor tied her hair into a loose bun, a few wispy strands escaping to frame her face. She rummaged through the cabinets, pulling out ingredients and setting them on the counter. flour, sugar, baking powder, milk, eggs, and a bottle of vanilla extract.

"Alright, we're making pancakes," she said with a determined smile, rolling up the sleeves of her cream blouse.

"We're making pancakes?" I teased, leaning casually against the counter, my eyes fixed on her. "Looks more like you're making pancakes while I get to admire you."

She glanced over her shoulder, her lips curving into an amused smile. "If you're not going to help, at least grab the butter from the fridge. You can't eat pancakes without butter."

I grinned, pushing off the counter to retrieve the butter, but as I walked back, my eyes couldn't leave her. The way she moved, calm, focused, completely in her element was mesmerizing. She measured out a cup of flour, the white powder puffing slightly as she poured it into a mixing bowl.

"Flour, check," she murmured, mostly to herself. Then came a tablespoon of sugar, a generous pinch of salt, and two teaspoons of baking powder. She whisked the dry ingredients together with practiced ease, her movements smooth and deliberate.

"What's next?" I asked, leaning closer, my hand brushing against her hip as I set the butter on the counter.

Taylor gave me a side glance, her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. "Milk and eggs. And try not to distract me, Mr. Kelce."