Endgame ~ Taylor Swift x Travis Kelce

appointments

tw: ed mentions (very minimal)

ALL credits to @taysmirrorball-13 for the request ily forever even though you didn't want me to post it

Travis

I knew today wasn't going to be easy for Taylor. She'd been counting down the days until this appointment, trying to pretend like she didn't care, but I knew she did.  

When I walked into the kitchen, she was standing at the counter in her little pink pyjama shorts and one of my hoodies, cradling a mug like her life depended on it. I leaned against the counter, crossing my arms and offering her a smile. "Ready to go?"

Taylor avoided eye contact, staring into her mug as she hummed softly, "Not yet."

I knew that look. The way she softly bit her bottom lip after she spoke. She had no intention of getting ready.  

I sighed, stepping closer, "Tay, my love..."

She finally glanced up, her big blue eyes looking into mine all cute and innocent. She knew I had a hard time saying no when she pulled that face. "What?"

I tilted my head, "You know what."

Taylor groaned dramatically, placing her mug down and leaning her weight against the counter like she was exhausted from just the idea of today. "Travis, I really don't want to go."

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into my chest. She melted into me instantly, her fingers softly clutching the fabric of my shirt. 

"I know you don't, baby," I murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, "but you have to."

She shook her head, her voice muffled against my chest, "No I don't."

I started to rub slow circles on her back. I'd seen this coming. "Yes, my love. You do."

Taylor let out a deep sigh, and I knew she was about to start negotiating.  "Travis, I hate it. They're gonna weigh me."

"Sweetheart," I sighed softly, knowing this would come up. "It's just a number, and-"

"It's not just a number." She interrupted, and I heard the slight crack in her voice that told me she was on the verge of crying. My heart broke for her, but she had to go to the appointment. She had to make sure she was making good progress. Taylor had become dangerously underweight just a few weeks ago, and was on a strict meal plan to help her recover. 

I leaned back enough to tip her chin up with my fingers, forcing her to meet my eyes. "You know what I see when I look at you?"

She blinked up at me, and I didn't miss the slight roll of her eyes.  "What?"

"I see you. My girl. My gorgeous, strong, brilliant fiancée. Not a number." I pressed my forehead against hers. "Not a fraction. Not a measurement."

Her eyes softened, but she still wasn't convinced. "They're gonna take my blood too," she mumbled. "I hate needles."

I kissed her nose. "I know you do, baby. But they've gotta make sure you're okay."

Taylor exhaled slowly, pressing her face back into my chest like she could disappear into me. "Travis," She mumbled after a while.

"Sweetheart?"

"I don't want to know my weight." Taylor's voice wavered, and her eyes glossed over with unshed tears. 

"Okay, that's okay. You don't have to know. As long as your doctor knows so she can make sure you're getting better. That's all that matters." I tucked Taylor's hair gently behind her ears, and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss onto her forehead. 

Taylor hummed, nodding ever so slightly. 

I let her stay held against my chest for a while, then without warning, lifted her right off the ground, throwing her over my shoulder. She let out a surprised squeal, instinctively wrapping her arms around my waist. 

"Travis!"

I grinned, carrying her upstairs toward the bedroom. "You've got five minutes to get changed, otherwise I'm taking you in your pyjamas." I teased. 

She gasped, "You would not."

I smirked. "You really wanna test me, sweetheart?"

She huffed but didn't fight me when I set her down in front of the closet. Her arms stayed wrapped around my waist for a few seconds before she finally let go, giving me the most pitiful look I'd ever seen.

"You're mean."

I kissed her forehead. "You know everything I do is because I love you."

She rolled her eyes with a little smile, but turned to pick out an outfit. I knew she was trying to be okay about this. She was trying. 

"Is this okay?" She got my attention a few minutes later, in a simple pair of black leggings and one of my hoodies that swallowed her whole. I knew she wore it because it hid her body, giving her comfort when she wasn't feeling her best. Her hands were tucked into the sleeves, fidgeting with the fabric as she stood in front of me, waiting for my reaction. 

I reached out, gently tugging her closer by the hem of the hoodie. "You look perfect," I murmured, my hands settling on her hips. "But you know you don't have to hide from me, right?"

Her lips pressed together, like she wanted to believe me but wasn't quite there yet. "I just feel... I don't know. Weird today."

I nodded, my hands smoothing over her hips. "That's okay, baby. You don't have to explain it." 

She let out a breath, then gave me a small, grateful nod. "Okay."

I pressed a kiss to her forehead before grabbing her sneakers from the closet. "Here, sit." I guided her toward the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of her to slip them onto her feet. She didn't argue, just watched me with soft eyes as I tied the laces, double-knotting them like she always liked.

"Why are you the sweetest person in the world?" she murmured, reaching out to brush her fingers through my hair.

I grinned, looking up at her. "Because I'm in love with the sweetest person in the world."

She rolled her eyes, but the blush creeping up her cheeks gave her away. "You're such a cheeseball."

"Cheeseball? That's a new one." I chuckled, standing up and reaching out my hands to help her up. 

"It suits you." She giggled, leaning up to press a soft kiss onto my cheek. She hummed, letting her hands linger on my face for a moment before sighing. "Okay, I'm ready."

Holding hands, we went downstairs, and I could feel the way she was clinging to me a little more than usual. I felt like the worst person in the world, like I was forcing her to go to this appointment. But it was important. Taylor knew it was too. She had to get better. 

By the time we reached the front door, she hesitated. I turned to her, rubbing my thumb over the back of her hand. "Sweetheart," I started, and she looked up at me, tears glossing over her eyes, "if you really don't feel ready, you don't have to go. I don't want to force you."

She shook her head quickly. "No, I-" She sighed, closing her eyes for a second. "I want to go. I know I have too."

"I'm proud of you." I kissed the top of her head, then let go just long enough to grab her coat and help her into it. She was quiet as I opened the door, stepping out onto the porch with me, the cool air making her shiver.

Without a word, I draped an arm around her shoulders, guiding her toward the car. 

I laced my fingers through hers when we pulled in to a parking spot, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before bringing it to my lips. "We can sit in the car for a minute if you need to," I offered softly.

She hesitated, then shook her head. "No, if I wait, I'll just overthink it more."

I admired how brave she was - how she faced things even when they scared her. And I knew how much this scared her. I knew how this was. "Alright," I said, brushing my thumb over her knuckles. "Let's go."