𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 || 𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬

chapter 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 - my poor brain

After a month or so, the band and the Foos landed in Europe, Norway to be specific. It had been a weird few weeks for Emmalyn.

She'd missed Dave dearly, without knowing. Living in a house with someone, you pick up little things about them you never know you remember. Like how the man always had an assortment of sarcastic comments to defuse awkward tension, or pick someone up if they're down. He's a loving guy.

She also couldn't shake the restlessness creeping into her chest, the kind she couldn't blame on jet lag or long rehearsals. She'd made it up to the stresses of being on tour: new places, tight schedules, and the constant pressure to keep up with the Foo Fighters energy. But there was something else buried in it, a tangle of emotions she wasn't ready to name.

And then there was Taylor.

Since the tour had started, he'd become a constant in her orbit. Not just as a bandmate or someone to share a laugh with after soundcheck, but as someone she found herself looking for, over and over again. She noticed the way he tapped out rhythms on his thighs when he was deep in thought, how he never let anyone sit alone for long, and the way he threw his whole soul into every performance.

"You seem quiet, what's up doll?" Taylor slumped down beside Emmalyn who was sat on an old sofa. Their gang had booked out an entire suite, consisting of 9 bedrooms and also a large communal area for all of their band gear and whatnot, also where they'd look if anyone wanted company.

"Just thinking," Her head rested back, meeting the crook of Taylor's elbow as it had slid behind her neck before Emmalyn had noticed.

"Careful," He nodded, "It can get dangerous up there."

He laughed softly, trying to ease Emmalyn's stress as her fingers danced over the corner of the newest copy of the Rolling Stone.

She turned to face him for a moment, his hair looking a little messier than usual. His eyes often carried a dark circle around them, but today they looked a little darker.

The night prior they had played the Oslo Concert hall only an hour out from their hotel, which was rather convenient.

As the tour went on, the two bands were growing much closer which only added to the power in their music performance. Nate and Amanda were fucking almost every night now, and Emmalyn (possibly sometimes Taylor) were in the room next door, so they didn't sleep too much; Hence why Emmalyn was out reading.

"I know it does, found it out the hard way," Emmalyn muttered mindlessly, Taylor's head now resting on her shoulder as he read along with her.

It was little moments like these that made Emmalyn and Taylor grow closer. Waking up ridiculously early (5:32am this morning) and sharing a mug of coffee as they mindlessly read through pages of useless knowledge. Sometimes they'd discover something good, like last week: the copy of Hot Press had a story about their tour and it was incredibly funny to see how wrong they'd gotten it.

Nobody, including them both, knew what was going on between Emmalyn and Taylor, but they were enjoying it and it was all that mattered. The man had decided to wait until they went to Italy to take Emmalyn out for their dinner, and it was honestly one of the only things keeping her going.

The month of April had only rolled around, quickly inducing Emmalyn's annual depression season, if she wasn't in it already. This year it would mark eight years since the death of her brother and she was feeling horrible about it.

"What are you thinking about, doll?" Taylor gently closed the magazine, trying to avert her attention from her mindless worrying.

"I don't know.." Emmalyn pulled her knees up and placed her legs over Taylor's leg as she relaxed back into the armest, eyes on the ceiling, "Just Kurt I suppose."

"Yeah? I'm sorry, Emmalyn," The past few weeks they'd also started talking a bit more deeply.

Emmalyn hated emotions, she genuinely despised them and talking about them. But Taylor was different. He comforted her and let her unpick it in funny ways, sometimes she'd laugh, letting her smiles revive the memories into being less dark for her, sometimes she'd just sob into Taylor's shoulder as they lie in bed in night.

Taylor liked to know she'd open up to him. He liked that she was slowly but surely coming to him whenever she fancied someone to talk to, or whenever she wanted someone to take a shot with, or whenever she felt upset about something.

"You don't have to be sorry, it's okay," Emmalyn now looked at him, his hand rubbing over the bottom of her thigh as he smiled sympathetically.

"I feel bad about it though, I wish I help you darling."

"You help me by just being here."

Emmalyn's core curled as she sat up, Taylor's arm snaking around her back to keep stability.

Her fingers met his tousled golden hair as she laced them in, his eyes watching her expression which lay flat and tired.

"Hello, beautiful," Taylor chuckled as he breathed out, Emmalyn's face a lot closer now and her eyes locked with his. A smile played at the corners of her lips as she placed the palm of her hand at his jaw.

"Hey," She muttered, her breath hot on Taylor's face as her cheeks flushed at the proximity.

Cocking her head gently to the right, her lips met this as Taylor pulled her fully onto his lap, his arms hugging her at the waist.

Their tongues danced against on another for a moment or so, their eyes closed in pure bliss. This was a common occurrence in the morning, they'd wake up and sit together for around an hour,
sometimes longer, and then make out for about twenty minutes.

After what felt like five minutes, but was more like thirty, Emmalyn and Taylor were interrupted by a shirtless Dave who wandered through the room towards the kitchenette, and he would've been unnoticed until he'd spoken up.

"Do you two do this every fucking morning? 𝐌𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 can't cope with this can it?" He yawned, pouring a mugful of the lukewarm coffee that Emmalyn had made for herself three quarters of an hour earlier.

Sipping away, Dave watched the pair of his friends slowly untangle themselves with red cheeks and flustered expressions. "Not every morning, just most."

Taylor got up and walked towards Dave, who greeted him with a slap on the shoulder and a snide laugh as he grabbed a clean mug from the draining rack.

Emmalyn watched her two favourite boys work together in setting a new pot of coffee on at six in the morning. Taylor wore plaid pajama trousers which  Emmalyn thought was awfully street, although he still kept his charming yet sneaky move of staying without a shirt.

"I'm gonna hop in bed, get some sleep now Nate and Mandy are done."

"Oh God. I forgot about that. Remind me to cut his balls off when I next have a knife," Dave said, the words sounding jokey, but his tone deadly serious.

"Hey, uh- Emmalyn!" Taylor called after the girl who was now half way across the room, her eyes almost shut already, "Can I come?"

His puppy eyes only made Emmalyn's smirk grow larger, "I suppose. We can give next door a taste of their own medicine."