Livre: One Shots

[9]Take it easy baby.

"I'm just saying, maybe you should skip the gym today."

"Really, I'm fine..."

"Karlie, you're shivering—"

"Klosses don't get sick. We're immune to everything."

Taylor narrows her eyes. "That might be the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say." She exhales slowly, shaking her head as she reaches for her cup of coffee. For a moment, it seems like she will let it go, but then she slams the cup back onto the table with just slightly too much force. "I just don't understand why you're being so difficult about this. Just go back up to the room and sleep for a bit longer. No one will care if you miss out on one training."

"But—" Karlie groans a little, feeling the pressure on her temples increase. "I'm really feeling fine."

She's not.

She's feeling like shit.

But Taylor doesn't need to know that.

"Karlie..." There's a worried edge to Taylor's voice that almost makes Karlie shiver more—she doesn't really understand why—but then Taylor reaches forward and holds her cool fingers against Karlie's forehead, and the feeling instantly skyrockets. "You're burning up..."

Karlie's breathing sort of stutters; she can see the slight frown of annoyance between Taylor's eyebrows at the fact that Karlie's not listening to her; the way she's biting down on her bottom lip as she studies Karlie up-close; her face suddenly only a breath away, her eyes so—

—green.

Karlie swallows hard. "I'm really okay," she says, but it sounds more like a whisper.

Taylor pulls her hand back slowly. "If you say so... But, please, eat some breakfast at least. I'm worried."

Despite everything—despite the pounding headache, and her sweaty skin, and the nausea—Karlie can feel the corners of her mouth curl up.

She forces some confidence into her smile. "Don't worry, Swift. We both know I'm fit. And we both know you need me to work out so I can continue sweeping you off your feet."

Taylor rolls her eyes, tries not to smile.

-/-

She does not seem fit at all during her workout.

And she most definitely doesn't sweep anybody off their feet especially as she collapses after fifteen minutes and blacks out completely.

-/-

"Come on."

"I really don't need any help with—"

"Stop fidgeting!"

"Taylor, I can do it myself..."

Karlie tries to swat Taylor's hands off her tennis shoes, but even the slightest effort shoots another wave of pain through her head. She groans in frustration, falls back on the bed, pushing her hands against her temples, as Taylor unties her laces and pulls her shoes off her feet.

Karlie's whole body is trembling.

She's pretty sure she's got a fever.

She's also pretty sure that this is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to her.

"I'm not sick," she tries. "Really, Taylor, I'm not. Klosses don't—"

Taylor's head snaps up. "If you say that one more time, I'm not speaking to you anymore."

That shuts the model up. Taylor is pulling the covers that are on top of the guest room bed. Her face is all serious, mouth pulled tight with worry; loose strands of hair falling out of her ponytail; shaking hands. It's been a while since Karlie has seen this room or this bed but she's glad that she's in one.