TNT Short Fics

You can hear it in the silence

Travis wakes slowly to soft morning light stretching across the bedroom ceiling.

For a second, he reaches toward the other side of the bed, expecting to find Taylor tangled in the blankets beside him. His hand meets cool sheets instead.

He blinks himself awake, lifting his head from the pillow. It's early. Way earlier than she's usually out of bed.

The apartment is quiet, wrapped in that rare early-morning stillness before New York fully remembers itself. The skyline beyond the bedroom windows is washed in soft shades of blue and gold, the first hints of sunrise catching the tops of the buildings.

Then he spots her.

Taylor sits curled into the window seat, knees tucked beneath one of his old Chiefs hoodies, both hands wrapped around a mug that's sending up a thin ribbon of steam. She isn't writing. Her notebook sits untouched on the small table beside her. No book in her lap, either.

She's simply watching the city wake up.

She doesn't notice him watching her.

He smiles to himself.

Some mornings she writes. Some mornings she disappears into a book for an hour before either of them says a word. And sometimes she just...exists.

Those are his favorite mornings.

He slips out of bed as quietly as he can, the hardwood cool beneath his feet. By the time he reaches the window seat, she still hasn't looked away from the skyline.

He brushes his hand lightly over her shoulder.

She tilts her head back immediately, a smile already spreading across her face before her eyes find his.

"Morning, baby."

"Morning, sweetie."

He bends to kiss the top of her head, lingering for a second before straightening again.

"What're you doing over here?"

"Thinking."

A quiet laugh escapes him.

"This is definitely about four hours before you're usually anywhere near awake, girl."

She shakes her head, taking another sip of coffee.

"I know." She glances back out the window. "Just...trying to remember this."

He eases himself onto the window seat beside her, stretching his legs out until she shifts automatically, making room against him. The movement is so familiar neither of them thinks about it anymore. She settles into his side, resting her head against his shoulder as naturally as breathing.

He slides an arm around her, rubbing his hand gently over the sleeve of the oversized sweatshirt.

"You planning on forgetting the apartment?"

A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.

"No." She shakes her head. "Just this part."

"The sitting-in-a-window-before-six-in-the-morning part?"

She lets out a soft laugh.

"The quiet part."

He follows her gaze outside.

The sidewalks are still mostly empty. A delivery truck rolls through the intersection below. A dog walker tries to convince three very opinionated terriers that they should all head in the same direction.

In another couple of days, this apartment won't feel anything like this.

Their families will start arriving.