everywhere, everything

Keep my hand in yours

Summary:  An interlude study in the contradictions of one Travis Michael Kelce.

He's told her more than once that he is not good with words. Said that and then beautifully told a reporter, "What a miracle she can turn life into poetry." Has sat in front of a wall of journalists and sports commentators clamoring for answers to the most ridiculous questions and politely answered every one. He's full of contradictions, but in the best ways—ways that pull her in, eager to learn more.

He's funny as hell, goofy, and a bit of a ditz. But he loves hard and is deadly serious about wanting to do good in this world. He sings in the shower, does a Martin Short impression so good that it leaves even Selena in stitches, and stares longingly at dogs they see when out and about. On the flip side, he spends hours pouring over the playbook for the week, stays late to talk to the practice team rookie who wants to improve his game, and has somehow gotten Meredith to be obsessed with a human for the first time in her life.

All these months in and she thinks he surprises himself more than he surprises her. He's still sensitive to his more wild days, wanting to make sure she knows that's behind him. Yet she's never given it another thought after that very first date. The day they sat tucked back in a cozy corner of a New York members-only club and he'd told her he wasn't there to have some quick summer thing. That maybe they met by unconventional means but he was serious–serious about her. He'd held her hand with a firm grip while he said it and hasn't let go since.

He's impulsive for sure. Changing his mind on what to wear at the last minute. Springing out of bed right before they're about to go to sleep to entice her to drive down back roads outside of KC to the best ice cream spot.  Surprising her a day early in Sydney because the golf tournament he was supposed to play through before joining her wasn't worth missing her with the short window of time they'll have together on this leg of the tour.

Yet he's thoughtful, careful even, when it comes to her. He knows she's been hurt. Knows she thought she found the person who was her forever—finally believed love was sure until someone carelessly dashed those hopes once more. He thinks before he speaks in arguments. Asks her if she needs a minute or wants to hash it out when most people would just yell. Makes sure she knows he expects this to go on no set timetable but if she wants him, he's hers for life. And that yes, it will be official. His care helps the hurt, the distrust, and the wounds fade a little more every day until she realizes all those things had to happen to get her to where she was supposed to be with him.

His ambition matches her own. He's smarter at business than people realize and even smarter for knowing when to bring on people who fill in the gaps of what he doesn't know. He knows how many more years he wants to play football, what he wants to accomplish in that time, and how he wants to transition after. Or at least knows the revolving door of three different things he's contemplating at any given time. He nods his head in understanding when she tells him how the lack of an Album of the Year Grammy nomination for Reputation lit a fire in her that hasn't gone away (his is Super Bowl LV). He knows her work, her music, and her fans are the most important thing to her outside of family, and fits himself into the open spaces of her life rather than trying to bulldoze over her life's work.

Yet, he's just like her in that some days he wants to leave it all behind. His version of a cabin in the woods ghostwriting songs is teaching high school football at his alma mater with a nice house on the lake. Both of them know these things will never happen, and they don't want them to. They're the places they go when maybe it seems like too much. Until one night they lay on the hood of the Chevelle under the midwest autumn sky and make up a new version of running away. One just for them together that they'll never tell another soul about.

He's loud and boisterous in ways she didn't know she needed in her life. His booming, unchecked laugh quickly becomes her favorite sound. The way he lights up and yells "Mama!" across the field when he sees his mom at the first game back after their summer away melts her heart. All of her life, she's been made to feel like too much, too loud, too excited—the monster on the hill. To have a partner that matches her energy and encourages it slots something back into place that she didn't know was missing. In the early morning hours after the Super Bowl, he pulls her up onto the team hotel bar with him and Jason and they all scream sing "Mr. Brightside" without a care in the world. It will forever go down in everyone's mind as the day she officially joins the family.

Still, he is soft and quiet when it matters. She notices that he specifically checks himself after games when the adrenaline is high and shouting is instinctual. He curls up on the floor of the playroom with his nieces and they whisper secrets and stories as he lets them swipe pretend makeup across his cheeks. And when he tells her with hushed awe that this is the happiest he's ever been in his life, she can't help but cry as she tells him the same.

She still marvels at how strong his hands are and how she can't quite close her fingers completely around his when they hold hands. Even so, they're most often soft to touch her. As if he still cannot believe she's standing in front of him so he should tread lightly. Nevertheless, the longer they're together, the more confident he is with a firmer touch. A protective hand leading her away from bright flashing lights. The tight clasp of his hands on her back, grounding him to her as people and cameras fade away on a Baltimore field. A grip on her hip that leaves the lightest marks of fingerprints when they can't get enough of each other after a show in Argentina.

Over time, she learns the calluses on his hands. The rough spots from years of football and weightlifting are so similar to her own from playing guitar, yet so different. Somehow the mismatched feeling of the evidence of all the hard work and drive they both have reminds her that in the quiet moments between setlists and away games and championship rings, they find each other. That even if they don't seem to quite make sense on paper, they're the perfect fit for each other. Their contradictions are the perfect pinpoint of chaos needed to make this work.

And that as long as his hand is in hers, this will be the easiest and most important thing they've ever done.