Tayvis One-Shots

still working?

Taylor's POV

The tension in the air was palpable, even before the words were spoken. I'd just finished up a long phone call with Tree, sorting out some press things for the next few days, when Travis walked into the kitchen. He wasn't late, but there was something in the way he moved, off.

I barely had time to put my phone down when he spoke, his tone already sharp.

"Still working, huh?" he asked, crossing his arms, leaning against the doorframe.

I glanced up from the countertop, giving him a quick smile. "Yeah, sorry, I had a lot to catch up on."

He didn't respond to that right away, just stood there with his jaw set in a way that made my stomach twist. I'd learned over time that this wasn't the "I'm just tired" kind of stance. This was different.

"You've been on that phone for hours," he muttered, his voice quieter, but there was a clear edge to it. "How long is this gonna go on, Taylor?"

My eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Come on," he said, stepping into the kitchen fully now, hands resting on the counter between us. "You've been gone—really gone. All these calls, meetings, press. You don't have time for anything else anymore."

I swallowed, setting my phone down fully now, crossing my arms. I wasn't sure if I was irritated or confused. "Travis, you know how it is. This is my job. It's what I've always done."

He scoffed, pushing himself off the counter. "And you can't spare a second for me? For us?"

I stood up straighter, the irritation creeping in. "I'm right here, Travis. What else do you want from me?"

"Stop with that, Taylor," he snapped. "You're here, but not really. You've been shutting me out. I don't even know where you are half the time."

I blinked, trying to process what he was saying. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He threw his hands up. "You're always distracted. Always somewhere else. On your phone, in your own head. I'm standing right in front of you, and you can't even make eye contact."

I felt my breath hitch, my heart beating harder than usual. "What do you want me to do, Travis? I'm doing everything I can. Everything."

"But you're not here," he countered, his voice rising. "You're not with me. You think I can just sit here and be fine with that?"

I took a step forward, feeling the sting of his words in my chest. "I didn't ask you to just sit here, Travis. I'm trying to do everything for us, for this relationship. You're acting like I don't care, like I don't see you. I do."

He shook his head, frustration now clear in his eyes. "Well, I don't feel like you do. I feel like I'm second to everything else in your life. And I can't keep pretending that's okay."

I stood frozen for a second, the weight of what he was saying crashing down on me. It felt like the floor had dropped out from beneath me. "I never meant for you to feel that way," I whispered, but even as the words left my lips, I knew it wasn't enough.

"Well, you've been doing a hell of a job making me feel like I don't matter," he shot back, voice full of raw hurt.

The air between us felt thick, suffocating, as I struggled to find the right words to fix this—to take it back. But I couldn't. I could only stand there, helpless, feeling the space between us grow wider with every second.

"I'm sorry," I said finally, barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to make you feel this way."

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily. "I don't know what to do with this, Taylor. I'm starting to think we're just too different."