Like Daylight (Taylor swift imagines💅)

I love you to the moon and to saturn (mother Tswizzle)

Sorry I've been a bit MIA had exams to study for and ended up in the hospital for a little bit but I'm back and to start back of I present a chapter I wrote while half asleep hopped up on coffee and showing my major mommy issues ... oops but anyway i hope you're well and if you ever need to talk im here love you lots

XOXO-ivy 🫶🏻
Around 1500 words so yh apologies
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Waking up to the faint echo of a closing door, I stumbled into the kitchen to find a note on the fridge. It carried the familiar handwriting of my mom, Taylor , explaining that she was at the studio once again, chasing melodies and crafting her art. A sigh escaped my lips as I read about the money left by the phone for dinner, a poignant reminder of the physical and emotional distance between us.

The house echoed with silence, occasionally interrupted by the distant sounds of the city outside. I couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness, as the walls seemed to absorb the void left by her absence. The photos on the walls captured moments frozen in time, stark contrasts to the current reality.

With a heavy heart, I decided to spend the day on my own, navigating the quiet rooms filled with echoes of music that once danced in the air when Mom was around. The day stretched long, and as the sun dipped below the horizon, I found myself longing for her presence.
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When the studio lights finally dimmed and the night sky enveloped the world, I waited for the sound of the front door opening, yearning for the reassurance that she hadn't completely disappeared into the realm of fame.

As the clock ticked away, the door creaked open, and there she was – my mom, wearing a tired yet genuine smile. Her eyes softened when she saw me, peacefully asleep on the living room couch, surrounded by the remnants of a day spent waiting.

Quietly, she tiptoed closer, her footsteps almost blending with the hushed melodies playing in the background. A mixture of guilt and love painted her expression as she observed me, strands of her golden hair falling gently across her face.

In that moment, I stirred from my slumber, my eyes fluttering open to meet hers. There was a brief pause, a shared understanding passing between us. Without uttering a word, she scooped me up in her arms, cradling me like she had done countless times when I was younger.

Ascending the staircase, each step echoed the tender reunion of a mother and her child. The soft glow of the hallway lights revealed a myriad of emotions etched on her face – regret, affection, and a deep desire to bridge the gap that had grown throughout the day.

As she laid me down in bed, tucking the blankets around me, her fingers lingered, gently brushing my hair. In that tender moment, the weight of the day began to dissipate. With a whispered promise to make more time, she pressed a soft kiss on my forehead, leaving the room bathed in a comforting silence.

The door closed, and I drifted back into a peaceful slumber, the strains of her lullaby drifting through the air, a melody that spoke of a love that transcended the demands of fame.

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, gently waking me from a restful sleep. Stretching and yawning, I made my way downstairs, hoping for a day filled with shared moments with my mom, Taylor Swift. However, as I descended the staircase, the distant sound of a heated conversation caught my attention.

"Jack, we can't keep going in circles like this," my mom's voice strained through the phone.

There was a tense pause, and I hesitated in the doorway, eavesdropping on words that hinted at the challenges of her dual life.

"No, I understand, but I need a bit more time. The album is almost there, and I want it to be perfect," she explained, her tone a delicate balance between determination and compromise.