Tayvis One-Shots

shattered silence

Travis's POV

The house is quiet when I finally step inside, the only sound coming from the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of the old wooden floors beneath my feet. Training ran later than I expected, again. My body is aching in the way that means I worked hard today, but my mind is already a step ahead, thinking about the footage I still need to go through for New Heights.

I set my bag down by the door, careful not to make too much noise as I toe off my sneakers and stretch my sore shoulders. The dim glow from the bedroom down the hall is the only light in the house, and I smile to myself. She waited up.

I push open the door quietly, and there she is, curled up under the blankets, her blonde hair fanned out over the pillow, her breathing slow and steady. She must've been exhausted, because normally she wakes up the second I walk into the room.

I move closer, kneeling beside the bed and brushing a few strands of hair away from her face. She stirs just slightly, her lashes fluttering, but she doesn't wake.

"Hey, baby," I whisper, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her temple. She smells like vanilla and something sweet, something hers.

She hums a little, half-asleep, and barely lifts her head. "You're home," she mumbles, her voice thick with sleep.

"Yeah," I whisper back, running a gentle hand down her arm before wrapping her in a hug. She melts into it, her body warm against mine. "Go back to sleep."

"Mm." She barely responds, already halfway gone again.

I kiss her forehead one more time before pulling back, watching as she shifts slightly, tucking herself deeper into the blankets. My chest tightens in that way it always does when I look at her, like I still can't believe she's mine.

But as much as I want to crawl into bed beside her, there's still work to be done. I drag myself back out of the bedroom, quietly making my way to the living room where my laptop is waiting. I sink into the couch, crack my knuckles, and open up the file for the latest episode of New Heights.

Jason's voice booms through my headphones as I start making cuts, his laughter filling the otherwise silent house. I shake my head with a small smile, adjusting the audio levels.

It's late. I'm tired. But that's just how it goes.

And honestly? I wouldn't change a thing.

--------------

A few hours have passed. The house is quiet—eerily so, except for the faint hum of my laptop and the occasional click of my mouse. My eyes burn from staring at the screen too long, but I'm almost done. Just a few more edits.

Jason's voice comes through my headphones, cracking some joke that I barely process. I rub a hand down my face, exhaling.

Then it happens.

A scream.

Not just any scream.

A blood-curdling, bone-chilling, soul-ripping scream that tears through the silence of the house.

I freeze.

My entire body locks up, my breath caught in my throat. My mind races, scrambling for an explanation.

Did someone break in?
Did she fall?
Is she hurt?
Is she—

No.

I shake off the moment of paralysis and bolt.

My chair scrapes against the floor as I shove away from my desk, headphones flying off my head. I sprint down the hall, nearly slipping in my socks. My heart is hammering so violently it hurts.