𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 || 𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬

chapter 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 - floaty

"How are you now?" Emmalyn sat at the foot of Taylor's hospital bed as he finished off some food. He'd woken up about four hours ago and Dave had gone off for lunch with Taylor's parents to give the pair some peace.

"I'm okay. Thank you for being here, darling," He discarded the plastic plate and pulled Emmalyn's hands into his crossed lap as she edged closer, "I'm sorry about all of this."

"You don't need to apologise, Tay. I'm just fucking glad you're okay," Emmalyn smiled weakly, her face only slightly less sick-looking than it was earlier.

"Thank you," He kissed her middle finger which carried a silver ring with an old amethyst gemstone as he looked into her eyes, "I really do love you."

"I love you too. A lot."

Emmalyn wasn't scared of Taylor; in the sense that she wasn't afraid of what he would do to her, because he wouldn't do anything to hurt her. Instead she was cautious of him. She didn't want to break him.

Despite all of her worries, Emmalyn could only see Taylor. With heavy eyes and tousled, damp hair, Taylor still carried that sweet smile had wowed her with on day one.

He reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from Emmalyn's face, his touch warm despite the IV taped to the back of his hand. She leaned into his palm, closing her eyes for a moment, savoring the gentleness of it. When she opened them again, his were locked on hers, softer than she'd ever seen them, a quiet mix of gratitude and love.

"You're my girl, Linny," he murmured, his voice raspy but filled with certainty.

Before she could reply, he tilted his head slightly and leaned forward. The kiss was soft, unhurried, and full of everything they couldn't say in words: his regret, her relief, and the unspoken promise that they would get through this together. His lips were warm and familiar, and she felt her own heart steady for the first time in days.

When they pulled apart, Taylor rested his forehead against hers, their noses brushing as he exhaled a small laugh. "You're not getting rid of me that easily," he whispered.

Emmalyn smiled, her eyes glistening as she cupped his cheek. "Good," she said quietly. "Because I wouldn't wanna be anywhere else."

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ . ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ.

"How are you feeling Mr Hawkins?" An assertive lady with a clipboard stood next to Taylor's bed as he sat as upright as he could in her presence.

Everyone else had left the room at this point, except for the clipboard lady and his doctor who had a long beard, which reminded him of Dave.

"I'm fine, I don't know," Taylor shook his head in uncertainty.

He was constantly being asked whether or not he was okay, or how he was feeling but the man simply did not have an answer.

Taylor was kicking himself inside for allowing his desire to take over, once again. He was destroying himself and everyone else around him with every extra pill before a show, or the late night needles under the shadow with a shady festival goer. He shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't have done it in the first place.

"Can you tell us about your drug usage?" The clipboard woman was now sat down in the chair that Emmalyn had been slumped in for the past fortnight, "We just need to figure out how to go forward with this, Mr Hawkins."

"Please just call me Taylor," The blonde man uttered, hating the responsibility which came with the title of 'mister', "What do you mean?"