Match Maker | T. Swift x OC

Chapter Eleven

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October, 2016

- Taylor Swift and Mallory Williams spotted grocery shopping in London.

"Is this necessary?" Taylor withheld a frown as she pushed the shopping cart behind Mallory.

The brunette ignored her, grinning giddily as she dropped a dozen boxes of Jaffa Cakes and packets of ketchup flavoured crisps into the trolley.

Taylor looked at the boxes skeptically, "Are they cookies?" She accidentally bumped into Mallory when the latter stopped suddenly and turned to her. Taylor gave the runner a wary look, not knowing if the glare she was receiving was because she had the Americanised word.

Mallory looked like she had been slapped in the face, either way.

"Biscuits, sorry," Taylor corrected.

Mallory scoffed and shook her head bitterly, "Is it a biscuit?" She repeated under her breath, the question shooting off her tongue like it was poison. "Is it a biscuit? Am i the Queen of England?"

"No..." Taylor trailed off slowly.

The brunette continued to mutter profanities to herself as Taylor watched on in amusement. They didn't speak about it again until they got to the till.

Clearing her throat, Taylor spoke up, "So they're not biscuits?"

"Taylor, they're called Jaffa Cakes, they're cakes!" Mallory groaned in feigned annoyance, fighting off a grin.

The blonde rolled her eyes as Mallory paid, grabbing as many bags as she could (four of five) and letting Taylor lead her to the car. They put the bags into the boot and left. On the drive, Mallory was screaming out lyrics to Bowie songs whilst Taylor quietly tapped along to the beat.

Then Mallory's phone went off and the music cut out for a second. The brunette groaned before opening the message, eyes widening.

"Holy shit!" She yelled, making Taylor jump.

"What?! Are you okay?" The blonde asked in fear, trying to find a place to pull over.

"Me? Oh, yeah, just great. My friend invited me to his film premiere." Mallory said nonchalantly as if her heart hadn't beaten out of her chest.

Taylor furrowed her eyebrows, "which friend? I thought I'd met them all."

Mallory snorted, "no, you met the Americans. This guy? My best mate, hands down."

Taylor glanced at her, raising an eyebrow in questioning.

"His name is Joe, he was in Hell's Favourites, you'll know him when you see him," Mallory grinned, "He wants me to go down to a pub to catch up. Do you want to come?"

The blonde looked at Mallory anxiously, "Will I be welcomed there?"

"If you don't say anything stupid, of course," Mallory teased, making Taylor relax a little.

"Well, then I'd love to come."

Later that evening, Taylor found herself tightly gripping onto Mallory's hand as they stood outside the pub. Three Legs it's was called, named changed from Royal Oak, by the previous owner's immature son. The new logo was quite literally just three legs, also. Nonetheless, Mallory still dragged the blonde through the door.

Taylor was instantly met with men screaming at televisions- Horse-back riding, golf, football, and rugby matches were on the different screens- the smell of alcohol and meat, and children running around like headless chickens. She swallowed her fears, letting Mallory lead her to a pair of low, tattered lounge chairs, inhabited by five people. There was a small coffee table with a tray on it, there were seven drinks on it, two of which had been untouched. The people were far too busy watching the rugby game to notice the two approaching behind them.