Tayvis One-Shots

a night out

Taylor's POV

The city buzzed with energy that night, the kind of electric hum that seemed to seep into every street and building. I could feel it as I stood in front of the mirror in our hotel room, twisting my hair into loose waves and applying the final swipe of lipstick.

I stepped back to get a full view of my outfit: a black sequined mini dress that hugged my curves in all the right places, the plunging neckline balanced by long sleeves that sparkled under the soft light. My heels were strappy and sky-high, giving me just enough height to match the confidence I felt.

Behind me, Travis sprawled across the bed, one arm propped behind his head, the other holding his phone as he scrolled aimlessly. He looked effortlessly handsome, his fitted black t-shirt and dark jeans highlighting his strong build, and his messy hair giving him that rugged charm that drove me wild.

"Are you just going to lay there all night?" I teased, catching his eye in the mirror.

He smirked, tossing his phone onto the nightstand. "I'm just enjoying the view."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't stop the smile tugging at my lips. "Well, the view's leaving in five minutes whether you're ready or not."

Travis swung his legs off the bed, standing and crossing the room in a few quick strides. He stopped behind me, his hands finding my waist as he leaned down to press a kiss to my shoulder. "You look amazing," he murmured, his voice low and warm.

I tilted my head back, meeting his eyes in the mirror. "Think I'll turn some heads tonight?"

"Maybe," he said, his grip on my waist tightening slightly. "But I'm the only one who gets to take you home."

I laughed, the sound light and easy. "Keep that attitude, and maybe I'll make it worth your while."

The mischievous glint in his eyes was answer enough, and I grabbed my clutch, tugging him toward the door.

The bar was a short cab ride away, a trendy spot we'd picked to avoid the usual crowds of paparazzi and fans. It was dimly lit, with exposed brick walls and a DJ tucked into a corner, spinning tracks that made the floor vibrate with bass. The air smelled like citrus and spice, and the faint clink of glasses blended seamlessly with the music.

Travis's hand rested on the small of my back as we wove through the crowd to find a booth. It was intimate, tucked into a shadowed corner with a good view of the dance floor.

"What's your poison tonight?" he asked, leaning in so I could hear him over the music.

I arched a brow. "Surprise me."

He grinned, dropping a quick kiss on my cheek before heading to the bar. I watched him go, appreciating the way he moved, confident but casual, like he owned the room without even trying.

When he came back, he had two glasses in hand. He slid one toward me.

"Tequila," he said. "Thought you could use something classic tonight."

I took a sip. "Perfect."

We spent the first hour talking and laughing, the noise of the bar fading into the background. But as the drinks flowed and the music grew louder, I felt the pull of the dance floor.

"Let's go," I said, standing and holding out my hand.

Travis gave me a skeptical look. "You want me to dance?"

"Do you really think you have a choice?" I teased, tugging him to his feet.

His laugh was low and easy as he let me pull him toward the crowd. "Guess not."