isn't it? [taylor swift]

chapter 60

February 2022

The restaurant was small, tucked into the quiet corner of a tree-lined street just off Washington Square Park. A soft snow had fallen that morning, leaving the sidewalks damp and glistening, but the sun had since burned through the cloud cover and settled into the kind of pale gold that made the windows shine like amber. Inside, everything felt slow and warm. Candles flickered in little glass jars on each table, and the scent of roasted garlic and toasted bread hung in the air like a soft embrace.

Leia sat across from Taylor at a small round table, her hands curled around a ceramic mug of mint tea. It wasn't what she'd ordered, but the server had forgotten, and Leia hadn't had the heart to correct them. The mug was warm, and it smelled like her grandmother's garden. She found herself holding it just for the comfort of it.

Taylor was mid-story, describing something Riven had said during a press meeting with Tree the day before, her voice light with laughter. She was wearing a navy wool coat over a ribbed turtleneck, her hair loosely curled and slightly wind-tousled from the walk over. There was a faint pink in her cheeks, the kind that only came from cold air and contentment, and it struck Leia just how at peace she looked in this moment.

Leia didn't say much as Taylor talked, but not because she wasn't listening. She was. She always did. It was more that she didn't want to interrupt the quiet rhythm of things, the subtle joy in watching Taylor animated and expressive, telling a story with her hands as much as her voice. Her fingers danced over the rim of her own glass of water, picking at the condensation, pausing only to gesture when she quoted Riven's sarcasm.

Leia smiled. Her food had mostly been picked at, the remains of a late brunch left abandoned on the edge of her plate. Scrambled eggs, roasted tomatoes, a half-finished slice of sourdough. She wasn't hungry. Not in the way she had been before. Everything in her stomach had gone warm and soft the moment Taylor sat down across from her and gave her that look. The one that still caught her off guard. Like Taylor couldn't believe this was real either.

"I don't think he'll ever forgive me for not letting him colour-coordinate the coffee table books, in his office" Taylor was saying now, amusement curling in her voice. "I told him no one's going to notice if the spines clash, and I swear to God, he looked personally betrayed."

Leia let out a soft laugh and set her mug down. "You broke his soul."

"I broke his soul by putting a green book between two blues," Taylor said, dramatically widening her eyes. "It was chaos. Artistic anarchy."

Their eyes met across the table. Something about it made Leia's chest ache in the quietest, sweetest way. It wasn't a new ache. But it had changed. It had softened.

"I like this," she said suddenly.

Taylor blinked. "Riven's distress?"

Leia shook her head, smile still tugging at her lips. "This. Eating out. Together. In public. No disguises. No underground entrances."

Taylor's smile softened into something gentler. "It is nice."

Leia looked around the restaurant. Only three other tables were filled. A young couple near the window, quietly sharing a bowl of soup. An older woman reading a book between bites of salad. A man at the bar typing into his phone. No one was staring. No one had approached. For once, it felt like they were just two people having lunch.

She shifted in her seat and leaned her elbow on the table, chin resting lightly against her knuckles.

"I used to think we'd never get this," she said. "Not without looking over our shoulders."