the stars in your eyes | t.s. one shots

like it was in the beginning

When Travis Kelce comes home, he expects to see his girlfriend sitting on the sofa, giggling at an episode of a television sitcom or cradling her guitar in her lap, hunched over her journal as she scribbles down the latest string of words that will soon top the Billboard charts. He expects to see Benjamin curled up on the cushions beside her, his dog Chauncey eyeing them suspiciously from across the room. Rambo has fallen in love with the cats, but Chauncey... he's still trying to make up his mind. Taylor would have a cup of tea on the table beside her, or lemonade if it was a warm day... which, today is. She'd have a pink and white paper straw peaking out of the top of the glass, and her hair would be tied up in a ponytail to keep it out of her face. She'd be wearing a cute little outfit, probably a tank top and her favorite pair of light wash jeans. The sun would be streaming in through the windows of Travis's new Kansas City house, and everything would be perfect.

It's what he returns home to nearly every day. It's what he's come to not only expect, but anticipate. To love. Returning home to her is truly the best part of his day.

But today, he doesn't find the perfect, picturesque scene that he was counting on. No, instead, he finds Taylor curled up on the sofa, tears streaming down her face. Her laptop is beside her, open to a webpage but he can't quite make out which one. It doesn't really matter to him, not right now. Not when his girl is hurting.

Without a word, he drops his jacket and walks over, moving the MacBook and sitting down beside her. "Tay," he says softly, "can I touch you?"

She looks up and her eyes meet his. "Trav," she mutters, her voice breaking as she speaks. "I'm sorry... I didn't think you were coming home for-"

"Coach let us go a little bit early. You wanna tell me what's wrong or do you just want me to hold you?"

She sighs. "I... um..."

"You wanna be left alone?" he asks her.

"No. Just... can you hold me?"

"That's what I'm here for," Travis tells her. He wraps his arms around her thin frame and pulls her into his lap, lightly stroking her hair. "Whenever you're ready to talk, I'm here to listen."

She doesn't for quite some time. She doesn't speak a word. She doesn't give him even the slightest clue of why she might be so upset. But she keeps crying. He can hear her quiet sobs, muffled into his sleeve, and he can feel her body lightly shaking. Travis feels so powerless, so useless. He wishes that there was something, anything, that he could do to take away some of whatever is hurting her.

But eventually, her tears subside. She finally gives him a glimpse into just what might be going on in her mind. "It's the album release," she says. "It's really dumb, and I know that you don't want to hear any of this... but I've been thinking about it so much, and it's got me reliving so many memories... and my anxiety is getting the better of me," she admits quietly. "It's making me so afraid that I'm just..."

She stops, her voice trailing off. She shakes her head, seeming to be unable to speak any more.

"Tay," Travis says, rubbing circles on her back with his palm, "it's a phenomenal album. Everyone's going to love it so much." He stops his hand movement on a spot by her left shoulder blade, massaging out a knot in her muscle. "That feel good?" he asks.

"Mhm," she nods, forcing a small smile as she turns her head to the side, trying to look up at him.

"I can tell you're really stressed, hon. You're hard as a rock up here. Your muscles are so tight. Talk to me." He keeps rubbing her shoulders as he speaks, hoping that she'll take over the conversation once he's done. Yet, he's got no such luck. The room falls into silence, with only the faint sound of the vinyl that's spinning in the other room and the rumble of the cars passing by outside falling upon his ears.