author- newyork-be-here
tumblr
http://newyork-be-here.tumblr.com/post/109239613347/one-shot-style
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This one took a little longer than I thought. I wanted to use actual dates so I used days where both H & T disappeared from the public eye. Forreal. Thanks for the love, you guys are da best.
*sexual content*
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Taylor was sitting in the studio one night by herself. She’d finished recording earlier in the day and everyone else had decided to head home. She stayed wanting to work out the chorus on a song. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get a scene from a couple of nights ago out of her head. She would start writing the chorus she was working on only to find she had stopped completely and zoned back in her mind. She turned to a blank page of her notebook and tried to write everything as she remembered. She hoped if she got it on paper, and out of her head, she wouldn’t be stuck on it anymore. Before she started writing she closed her eyes and fell back to the Thursday night, just a couple days before, when it had all happened. It was like a movie in her mind, no matter what happened she couldn’t let it go.
//
Taylor unlocked her front door and nearly tripped over the rise of the ledge on the bottom. She caught herself on a wall and rolled her eyes at her seemingly unending clumsiness. She already had bruises on her leg from falling earlier in the week and here she was doing the same thing again. Completely sober, both times, no less. She shook her head making her way through the house and flipping on lights as she went.
She had just gone to dinner with her girlfriends to celebrate the end of the RED tour and the start of recording her new album. Regardless of having just eaten, she went into her kitchen looking for something sweet. She was imagining cookies but she was pretty sure she didn’t have any in the house. She opened her fridge and stuck her head inside, moving things around. When she heard her phone start ringing she pulled her head back suddenly only to hit the top of the fridge.
“Shit,” she said at the sting, pushing her hand to the place she had hit—hoping the pressure would make the pain stop. She grabbed her phone off the island in the middle of the room and her eyes went wide at the name that flashed up: Harry Styles.
“What the fuck?” she said before remembering phones only rang for a short amount of time, which didn’t allow for a lot of questions before deciding to pick it up or not.
“Hello?” she answered, already assuming he hadn’t meant to call her. She hadn’t seen him since the VMA’s last August. They’d been in contact since then but he hadn’t called her in a long time. They were friends, yes, but she hadn’t expected this.
“Hi, It’s Harry,” his slow, warm voice flooded the line.
“Yeah, hi,” Taylor said starting to walk in circles around the kitchen. She wasn’t nervous to talk to him but something about him always sent butterflies in her stomach.
“You okay?” he asked. Taylor smiled. “You okay” wasn’t a question she was asked a lot in the states. It was always more of “What’s up” and “How are you”. She remembered how much she liked when her British friends used the phrase.
“Yep, I’m good,” she said biting her lip, “Uh, how are you?”
“I’m alright,” he said easily, “Listen, I was wondering if I could pick you up. I’m back in LA.”
