TAYVIS ONE SHOTS

I'm so depressed I act like it's my birthday

Taylor's POV

I knew something was off when I woke up and found Travis trying to assemble balloons in the kitchen. Normally, the sound of him bumbling through some Pinterest-inspired project would make me laugh, but today, it felt like static in my brain.

The kitchen smelled like pancakes, bacon, and candles—all of it clashing in a way that made my stomach churn.

"Morning, birthday girl!" he said, grinning like a proud kid showing off a finger painting.

I blinked at him. "It's not my birthday."

"No, but it should be," he said, spinning a balloon on his finger like he was auditioning for the circus. "I mean, why limit celebrations to once a year?"

I couldn't tell if this was one of his attempts to cheer me up or just a random Travis-ism, but either way, it felt like too much.

"Trav," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, "what are you doing?"

His face fell for a second, like I'd just told him Santa wasn't real. Then he rebounded, his grin widening. "I'm making you the ultimate breakfast-slash-party. You've been a little down lately, and I figured, hey, why not act like it's your birthday every day until you're back to feeling like yourself?"

Travis's POV

I don't know how to fix things when Taylor gets like this. She's a tornado of light and fire most of the time, but every so often, the storm quiets, and she's just... grey.

I hate seeing her like that.

So I'd woken up early, gone to the store, and bought a ton of random birthday stuff—balloons, confetti, cake mix. I didn't have a plan. I just wanted to make her smile.

But now, standing in front of her, I could tell I'd missed the mark.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I appreciate it, but... I don't think pancakes and balloons are going to fix this."

I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek. "Okay. What will?"

Taylor's POV

That's the thing—there isn't an answer.

I wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, that this fog had nothing to do with him. But explaining that felt exhausting. So instead, I just said, "I don't know."

He walked over to me, sliding his arms around my waist. "Then we'll figure it out," he said softly. "But can we at least eat the pancakes? Because I spent 20 minutes trying to shape one like a heart, and it looks like a deformed football."

That pulled a tiny laugh out of me.

"Fine," I said. "But no singing."

Travis's POV

She laughed a little. It wasn't one of her usual, sparkly laughs, but it was a start.

I served her the pancakes and pretended not to notice when she only nibbled at them.

We spent the rest of the morning just sitting at the table, talking about nothing. I didn't push her to explain what was going on in her head, and she didn't try to pretend everything was fine.

After a while, she leaned her head on my shoulder.

"Thanks, Trav," she said.

"For what?"

"For trying."

Taylor's POV

Later that night, I found him in the living room, sitting on the couch with a book in his lap. He looked up as I walked in, his expression a mix of concern and hope.

"Hey," he said. "Feeling any better?"

"Not really," I admitted.

"Okay," he said, patting the spot next to him. "Come here."

I curled up beside him, letting him wrap his arms around me.

"Do you remember that lyric from 'The Archer'?" I asked suddenly.

"The one about waking up feeling like you're nobody?"

I nodded. "That's how I feel right now. Like I'm trying to claw my way out of this, but I can't find the edge."

He was quiet for a moment, just holding me. Then he said, "You don't have to do it alone, Tay. I'm here, okay? Even if all I can do is make stupid pancakes and buy too many balloons."

That made me smile. A real one this time.

"Thanks, Trav," I said.

"For what?"

"For being my anchor."

Travis's POV

We didn't fix everything that night. I know it's not that simple.

But as I held her in my arms, listening to her breathe, I realised that sometimes, just being there is enough.

And if it wasn't, well... I'd gladly make her pancakes every day until it was.

A/N why did i make this sad

I'M SEEING CHAPPELL ROAN NEXT YEAR