1.6

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by jellywh4les

by jellywh4les

Songs of the Chapter-

Never Going Back Again by Fleetwood Mac

Lies by The Saturdays

Wrapped Around Your Finger by 5sos

Breathe In Breathe Out by Tich

*TAYLOR'S POV*

"Are you sure you're going to be ok here? You promise you won't go home?" Michael's voice sounded in my ears from where he was stood behind me in front of Tia's whitewashed house.

"Yes Michael. I'm sure. Don't worry about me. I promise I won't go home, you can trust me." Turning round to face him, I sighed. I was getting slightly exasperated with his constant pestering to make sure I didn't end up at home. I didn't understand what was the big deal to him, I didn't get why he cared.

"I'm sorry. I just want to make sure you're ok. I care Taylor, much as you may think I don't." He slipped his hand softly into mine, taking care not to make me jump.

"I know you do." Squeezing his hand, I assured him gently. "I just don't know why, it's not like I'm special." The mutter came without thinking of it.

"You are special Taylor. Believe me you are. I don't know why, but you are." His green eyes held a gaze so sincere, I had no choice but to believe that his intentions were real, even if I didn't understand them myself.

I nodded softly before turning and pressing Tia's brass doorbell, my hand still in Michael's.

"Hello?" The door cracked open and Tia's freckle-filled face popped out, her chesnut hair bouncing around her as she did.

"Hi." I whispered, sudden shyness overtaking me.

"Tay? What are you doi- ohmygodisthatmichaelclifford?!" The last bit all came out in a rush, as Tia's eyes zoned in on where Michael stood behind me. I cursed myself for not remembering earlier the small problem of Tia being almost as 5sos obsessed as I was.

"Erm, yeah... About that..." I gulped and stuttered, trying to explain away the fact that I had Tia's, and my, biggest inspiration standing next to me, holding my hand no less.

"Girl, I think you'd better come in..." Tia opened the door and pulled me through, losing Michael's hand in the process.

The sight in the hallway made me stop dead in my tracks. Conner. He was here.