Tayvis One-Shots

loopy

Travis's POV

Taylor hated the idea of going to the hospital. She'd put off this small procedure for weeks, claiming she didn't have time with the tour planning and album launch. But when the pain in her side started waking her up at night, she finally admitted it couldn't wait any longer.

"It's just gallbladder surgery," she'd said when we scheduled it, her voice casual, though I could see the worry behind her eyes. "Routine stuff. Nothing to stress about."

Routine or not, it wasn't nothing to me. The thought of her being in pain, of her needing anesthesia and stitches, made my chest tighten. I'd done my best not to hover, but when she caught me googling post-op recovery tips late one night, she rolled her eyes and kissed my cheek. "You're sweet," she'd said, "but you don't have to worry so much. I'll be fine."

Now, sitting in the hospital's sterile pre-op room, I wasn't so sure she was fine. She sat cross-legged on the bed, wearing one of those flimsy gowns that made me want to wrap her in a blanket and take her home. Her hair was tied back loosely, and though she looked calm, her fingers fidgeted with the edge of the sheet draped over her lap.

"You doing okay, Tiger?" I asked, leaning forward in the chair beside her bed.

She smiled softly at the nickname, the corners of her eyes crinkling just a little. "Yeah. Just...ready to get it over with, you know?"

I nodded, reaching out to cover her restless hand with mine. "You'll be out before you know it. Then it's all about me waiting on you hand and foot for the next week."

"Don't tempt me," she teased, though her smile was still faint.

The nurse came in to check her vitals, giving me a reassuring nod. "She's in good hands," the nurse said kindly, as if she could sense my unease.

"Travis," Taylor said softly after the nurse left, her voice breaking through the quiet hum of machines. "You'll be here when I wake up, right?"

I squeezed her hand. "Of course. I'm not going anywhere."

Her eyes held mine for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability passing through them before she nodded. "Okay. Good."

When they finally wheeled her into surgery, I stood in the hallway, staring after her until the doors swung shut. The waiting room was quiet, but the minutes felt endless. I must've scrolled through my phone a dozen times, but nothing held my attention. Every time I saw someone in scrubs walk by, my heart jumped, even though I knew it was too soon.

When the surgeon came out two hours later with a calm smile, the relief was overwhelming. "Everything went perfectly," he said. "She's in recovery now, waking up from the anesthesia. You can see her in a little while."

I practically ran to her side when they let me in. She looked so small in the hospital bed, her face pale but peaceful. Her eyes fluttered open when I sat down, and the first thing she did was smile.

"Trav," she mumbled, her voice soft and groggy. "You stayed."

"Of course, I did," I said, taking her hand in mine. "You okay?"

She nodded slowly, her eyelids heavy. "Just... sleepy. And kinda floaty." Her lips curved into a lopsided smile. "Did they give me magic drugs? It feels like magic."

I chuckled, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead. "Yeah, something like that. You just rest. I've got you."

Her hand gripped mine weakly, and her eyes fluttered closed again. "You're my favorite person," she murmured. "You know that, right?"