DOROTHEA

NINETEEN

"And DAMN Dorothea...
They all wanna be ya!"

———

March 18th, 2018

Taylor, lost in the depths of sleep, suddenly woke at the feeling of something brushing against her neck. She blinked a few times, confused by her dim surroundings and the loud, white noise-like whoosh filling the air. It took a moment for her to remember that she was on a red-eye flight to LA.

And that Dorothea was fast asleep at her side.

Taylor looked down at the brunette and smiled. She observed how her chest rose and fell with each breath; her eyelashes fluttering as she navigated a world the blonde couldn't see. It was hard to imagine that inside of the girl who currently had her hands balled in the sleeves of her sweatshirt, knees folded against her chest and lavender polish beginning to chip on her fingernails, there was a tiny new life growing with each passing moment. In the coming months, it would become much more obvious, and now that they were back together Taylor wanted to be there for every second of it.

Now more than ever, her thoughts were constantly pulling her into a distant, dreamy image of her and Dorothea's future. Before meeting the Texas girl, her picture of the future sometimes included kids. Other times, none at all. Taylor loved the children in her life—such as those of her friends, Blake and Ryan—but it was hard to imagine where they would fit in the complicated puzzle of her own future, if she chose to have any. Given her career, there were pieces already in place for the next two years, and then there were those that were just missing. Or perhaps never in the box to begin with.

But thanks to the woman now sleeping peacefully at her side, she secured another piece of the puzzle. Or two.

God, did she hope that Dorothea felt the same way.

The brunette had immediately accepted the position as her second tour photographer, and the only response that Taylor could manage was a huge sigh of relief. On the drive from the airport to Dorothea's mother's house, she fretted over what to do if the opposite happened. The reality was, she would have begged; gotten down on her knees, whipped up some tears—though perhaps not in front of Heather—bought her the moon, whatever it took. But luckily, Dorothea was just as excited as she was by the opportunity (and judging by the squeal that escaped her and floated up to the chandelier like a melody destined for heaven, Taylor wasn't about to doubt it).

The few days Taylor spent in Dallas felt like an unauthorized escape. It seemed reckless to side-step her career and feel the hot southern sun blaze against her skin. Each day, Dorothea had taken her to a place from her past; her high school, the neighborhood park, the bar she swore had the best margaritas in the country—New York City's didn't compare!—, although, of course, she didn't partake. With each new place, it felt as though she was reading another page from the brunette's diary. Between the moments of exploring where the hazel-eyed girl's life had once led her, they shared new, exhilarating moments of their own. It was just the two of them, lost in a secret garden of magnolia trees and lemon iced-tea.

God, was it perfect.

Dorothea stirred against her, blinking as she opened her eyes. She immediately furrowed her eyebrows. "Huh—" She hummed, eyes landing on Taylor, "Oh!"

The blonde chuckled, "Forgot you're on a flight to LA?"

The younger woman mumbled something Taylor couldn't quite hear, then moved so she was resting against her. In addition to the loose strands of espresso hair that fell against the singer's shoulder, Taylor felt the shape of the girl's frame find its place against her own.