Tayvis one-shots (3)

Reconnecting After a Fight

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The tension in the air was palpable. Taylor sat on one end of the couch, arms crossed, her gaze fixed on the flickering candle on the coffee table. Across the room, Travis leaned against the wall, running a hand through his messy hair. Neither of them spoke, the echoes of their earlier argument still reverberating in the quiet space.

It wasn't like them to fight—not like this. Sure, there were disagreements, but this time, the words had been sharper, the tones harsher.

"I don't even know what you want me to say," Taylor finally muttered, breaking the silence.

Travis exhaled deeply, his voice quieter now. "I just... I don't want to feel like I'm not enough for you. Like I'm always the one trying, and you're just... distant."

Her head shot up, her eyes glistening. "Distant? You think I'm distant?"

"Well, yeah! Lately, it feels like everything else—your tour, the press, even your team—is more important than us."

Taylor's lips parted to respond, but she paused. She wanted to defend herself, to argue that he was wrong, but deep down, she knew there was some truth to his words.

"Travis," she began softly, her voice losing its edge, "I'm not distant because I don't care. I'm distant because I care too much. I want everything to be perfect—my career, our life together—and sometimes I get so caught up in trying to balance it all that I forget to just... be here with you."

His expression softened, and he pushed off the wall, slowly making his way toward her. "Taylor, I don't need perfect. I need you. Just you. All the chaos, all the flaws, all of it."

She looked up at him, tears spilling over her lashes. "I'm sorry, Travis. I never meant to make you feel like you're not enough. You're more than enough—you're everything."

Travis knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. "And I'm sorry for blowing up earlier. I know how much you have on your plate, but I guess... I just miss you. The quiet moments. The little things."

Taylor's throat tightened, and she nodded. "I miss those, too."

They didn't say much after that, but the weight in the room began to lift. Travis pulled her into his arms, letting her bury her face in his chest.

Later that evening, they found themselves in the kitchen. Travis was slicing strawberries while Taylor leaned against the counter, watching him with a small smile.

"So," he said, glancing over at her, "you think we can hit reset on today?"

She tilted her head, her smile growing. "I'd like that."

"Good," he said, popping a slice of strawberry into his mouth. "Because I have an idea."

Taylor raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

He set the knife down and turned to her, a playful glint in his eyes. "You and me. Blanket fort. Right now."

She blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. "A blanket fort?"

"Yep." He grinned. "We've got blankets, pillows, and string lights. What more do we need?"

Taylor couldn't help but laugh, the sound light and genuine. "Alright, Big Guy. Let's do it."

Within twenty minutes, their living room was transformed. They'd draped blankets over chairs and the couch, stringing fairy lights across the makeshift roof. Pillows were scattered on the floor, and Travis had even brought a bowl of popcorn to complete the setup.

"This is... impressive," Taylor admitted as she crawled into the fort.

"Not my first blanket fort rodeo," Travis said, following her inside.