Begin Again

Chapter Eight

*Three Months Later*

Ed's POV

"Goodnight, love." I placed a kiss on Taylor's forehead as she smiled, the duvet up around her chin. I brushed my thumb across her cheek, bringing the strands of hair that had fallen out of her face. "I love you, beautiful girl, I'll see you in the morning."

She nodded. "See you in the morning." She mumbled, and I smiled, before straightening back up and walking out.

I padded down to the guest room here at her parent's house, which has basically become my own room. They said that if it didn't bother Taylor, and it made me feel better, I was more than welcome to stay here as long as I liked. I've tossed a few of my favorite t-shirts and shorts in a dresser in the corner, and my phone charger has seemed to have found a temporary place in the outlet along the wall.

I flopped down onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, thinking, just as I did every other night.

In the past three months, Taylor's remembered quite a few things. Her memory has come as far as the release of 1989, which I'm beyond excited about. But, it's been four months since she's loved me, which has been bothering me. I miss kissing her, and falling asleep with her little body clutched to my chest, and my god do I miss more than anything looking in her beautiful blue eyes and telling her that I love her, and having her say she loves me back. It's been over four months since that's happened, and it kills me inside. Every day since she's woken up, I've told her that I love her, and she just nods, or says something vague like, "I'm sure some part of me does love you," and I guess it's better than nothing, but still...she never makes eye contact when she says it, and I just need so badly with all of my being to hear her say that again. I love her so much, and not having the feeling returned, especially since I know that she's loved me, it drives me crazy.

Ever since the crash, I've hardly gotten any sleep. I toss and turn and I wake up multiple times in the middle of the night, usually from a bad, make that terrifying, borderline-devastating, dream. Whether it be of Taylor telling me she hates me, or a doctor with a report saying that there's no way Taylor will remember everything we once were, or any horrifying combination of the two, I haven't gotten a full night of sleep since the last time I was able to fall asleep in our bed, with my arms around her waist.

To try and bore myself to sleep, I faced the clock that sat on the nightstand, watching as the minutes crept by. The last time I remember was about 10:00.

Some time later, soft sounds penetrated my dreams. I opened my eyes and rubbed the sleep out of them as I tried to figure out what it was. A few moments later, I determined that it sounded like sniffling and shuffled, pacing footsteps. Taylor's sniffling and shuffled, pacing footsteps.

I jumped up out of bed and ran into the hall, to find her pacing nervously outside her bedroom.

"Taylor?" I asked, running over. She jumped a little, letting out another sniffle. "Taylor, shh...what's wrong, love?" I asked, holding my hands on her shaking shoulders.

"Bad dream...really bad..." She mumbled, and I let out a sigh of relief, I had been so worried about her.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" I asked, and she nodded shakily.

"I...I don't know, it was just sort of...you were there, I think, and I...I felt so safe, and then I just...didn't, someone took that from me, I don't know, it sounds so stupid, I just....I felt so...terrible, sad, alone..." She sighed, and broke down into tears again.

"Taylor, come here, love." I murmured, and pulled her into my chest. "It's all alright. No one can ever take me from you, okay? You'll always be safe with me, I will always be here for you, love." I promised, holding her close. She nodded.