Tayvis One-Shots

without you

Taylor's POV

My room feels too quiet without him. It's the kind of silence that presses down on my chest, making the emptiness impossible to ignore. I lie on my side, staring at the clock on the nightstand as the minutes tick by, each one stretching longer than the last.

I've tried everything, fluffing the pillows, switching positions, pulling the blankets tighter around me, but nothing works. The space beside me feels cold, painfully empty.

I toss and turn, trying to convince myself I don't need him here to fall asleep. But it's a lie. I need the steady weight of his arm around me, the sound of his breathing lulling me into rest. Without him, it's like trying to sleep in a storm.

Finally, I give up. I throw back the blankets, slipping on one of his old hoodies that's still draped over the chair in the corner of the room. It smells like him, clean and comforting, but it's not enough to fill the ache that's settled in my chest.

I pad quietly down the hallway, my bare feet cool against the hardwood floor. I know where he is. He's in his study/room, the place he retreats to when the weight of the world gets too heavy. He'd come home after the game tonight, barely speaking, his face tight with frustration. I didn't press him. I told myself he needed space, but now, in the stillness of the night, I can't do it.

I pause outside the door, the faint glow of his TV leaking out through the crack. The low hum of some sports recap plays inside, but I doubt he's really watching.

I knock softly. "Travis?" My voice is small, hesitant.

There's no answer, but I push the door open anyway, peeking inside.

He's sitting on the couch, hunched forward, his elbows resting on his knees. His hair is damp from the shower, sticking up in messy tufts, and his eyes are fixed on the screen. But I can tell he isn't really seeing it.

"Can I come in?" I ask, stepping into the room.

He doesn't look at me, but he nods, and I close the door behind me. The room feels heavy, saturated with his frustration and hurt.

I sit down beside him, leaving a small space between us. He doesn't say anything, and for a while, neither do I. The silence stretches, but it's not peaceful. It's thick, suffocating.

"You didn't come to bed," I finally whisper.

"I didn't want to keep you up," he mutters, his voice low and rough. "I'm not exactly great company right now."

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. "I can't sleep without you."

That gets his attention. He glances at me, his expression softening just a little.

"Travis," I continue, my voice trembling slightly, "I know tonight was hard. I know you're upset, and I know you probably just want to sit here and feel it. But I'm here too. And it's harder for me to lie in bed alone, knowing you're hurting and I can't do anything about it."

He sighs, leaning back against the couch and rubbing a hand over his face. "I just... I messed up. The game was on the line, and I blew it. Everyone was counting on me, and I wasn't good enough."

"You're allowed to mess up," I whisper, sliding closer to him. "You're human, Travis. One bad game doesn't erase everything else you've done."

He shakes his head, his jaw tightening. "It feels like it does. Like this is all people will remember."

I take his hand in mine, lacing our fingers together. "You're not just a football player to me. You're Travis. The man who makes me laugh, who holds me when I'm sad, who makes every room feel brighter just by walking into it. That's who you are. Not some stat on a scoreboard."

His shoulders slump, and he exhales a shaky breath. I scoot closer, wrapping my arms around his waist, resting my head against his chest.

"Don't shut me out," I whisper, my voice breaking. "I'm here for all of it, okay? The wins, the losses, the hard nights like this one. You don't have to carry it alone."

For a long moment, he's still. Then, slowly, his arms come around me, holding me tightly.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs into my hair. "I didn't mean to leave you alone up there."

"You didn't leave me," I say softly. "I found you."

He pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, and I feel the tension in his body start to ease. The glow of the TV flickers across the room, but the warmth of his embrace is all I need.

And just like that, the storm inside me quiets.

Travis holds me for a long time, his arms wrapped tightly around me like he's afraid I'll slip away if he lets go. I can feel his heartbeat against my cheek, steady and calming, and for the first time tonight, I feel like I can breathe again.

After a while, he tilts his head down, his lips brushing softly against my hair. "Let's go to bed," he whispers, his voice softer now, the sharp edges of frustration and guilt dulled by something gentler.

I nod, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. They're tired, but there's warmth there, too, a silent apology, a promise. He stands, reaching for my hand, and I let him guide me out of his room and back down the hall.

The bedroom feels warmer with him in it, the cold emptiness from earlier replaced by his presence. He pulls back the covers, and I slip into bed, the mattress dipping slightly as he settles in beside me.

As soon as he's lying down, I scoot closer, tucking myself into his side. He doesn't hesitate, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me against his chest. His other hand finds mine beneath the blanket, our fingers lacing together.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs again, his lips pressing against my forehead. "For shutting you out. For making you feel like you had to come find me."

I tilt my head up to look at him, my heart aching at the regret in his expression. "It's okay," I whisper. "Just don't do it again. I need you, Travis. Even on the bad days."

He nods, his thumb brushing softly over my knuckles. "I need you too," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

The silence that follows is different from earlier. It's soft and comforting, the kind of quiet that wraps around us like a blanket. His breathing slows, steady and rhythmic, and I feel the tension leave his body as he relaxes against me.

His hand trails lazily up and down my back, his touch soothing, and I close my eyes, letting myself sink into the warmth of him.

"Goodnight, Taylor," he whispers, his voice heavy with exhaustion but full of tenderness.

"Goodnight, Travis," I murmur back, my words barely audible as sleep finally begins to pull me under.

In his arms, with his heartbeat against my cheek and his warmth surrounding me, the world feels right again. And for the first time all night, I drift off with a sense of peace, knowing he's here, and I'm not alone.

a short one, but at least i wrote something i guess