[kaylor] mirrored;

puppet strings;

The coffee shop greets her with its familiar tinkling hanging doorbell and a blast of heat washes over her face, smoothing over her frost-bitten cheeks.

The barista on shift recognizes her and politely shoos her from the counter, explaining that she already knew her order. Taylor laughs with gratitude and shuffles to the side of the shop, letting the bustle of other customers rush past her. Seeing Dianna with her soulmate in trail had knocked a chip out of her resolve. What she told her friends was true; she wasn't bothered by it, and she didn't like talking about it, but she didn't see why that had to stop her from thinking about it. Not that she thought about her potential soulmate often, but when situations like this came up, it was all she could think about.

Two years and some months in change into her college experience now, Taylor recalls the first few months at NYU. She had just turned twenty-one in the midst of her holiday break and nothing had happened. Her friends and family kept hopeful, having all learned the same things in grade school. Soulmates were never too far apart in age. Days passed, then weeks. Months. The scattered trees of the city departed from their bare, snow-covered states and bloomed into budding leaves and flowers. It no longer burned her lungs to breathe in the crisp air. Spring fell into summer, and that's when the first real problems arose.

/ / /

Exam week was strenuous. She was stupid to pretend it was just her overworking herself the first time it happened. On her walk from one class to the next, something felt off. She blamed it on pre-test jitters. For the next few hours, she'd be pent up in a desk, hand clutching pencil, arm sprawled over papers, finishing up an exam that would decide her final grade in near entirety. When her lungs start to feel like they're caving in on themselves, that's when she stops and tries to get her phone out to dial 911. There's a few students in the quad, but she couldn't breathe out a shout for help even if she tried. When the phone slips out of her hand and plummets to the soft grass below, Taylor follows suit seconds after.

She wakes up in the hospital. Martha is by her side, curled into the small chair, and her parents are lingering outside the door, talking to a doctor. When her eyelids start fluttering, coupled with confused noises, Martha scoots closer.

"Hey, hey, you're alright," she attempts to comfort, holding Taylor's hand tight. "You passed out in the courtyard."

"I did?" Taylor questions incredulously, seeming to finally comprehend her surroundings. Martha gives her a weak smile and nods.

"Before you start imploding, I already talked to your professor. She's going to let you take the exam in a few days. I told your professor for your exam tomorrow that you might not feel up to it and he's giving you two days at the most. What a prick." Martha knew Taylor well enough to understand that school was her number one priority. It ruled her life, really, as it should for any good student, but Taylor took it to levels beyond normal. If Martha hadn't gone to her teachers, she figured Taylor would be up and taking those exams within the hour if she could.

"Thank you," Taylor says with hesitation, but not without gratitude. 

Their soft conversation alerts Taylor's mother, Andrea, who steps quickly back inside, Scott in tow with his hands tucked deep into his pockets. 

"Hey, sweetheart," Scott says softly, approaching the side of her bed. "How ya' feeling?" 

"I'm alright, Dad. Just a little bump in the road." Taylor grins at her father's casual nature, doing her best to keep her smile on when she looks at her mother, who is frazzled as ever.

"Alright? Taylor, you passed out in the middle of the schoolyard. You hit your head on the ground and sprained your wrist, how are you just alright?" Taylor's eyebrows furrow together, tugging at the bandaid pressed tight against her forehead, not sure how to respond to her mother's paranoia. "The doctors are bringing back tests they did on your head in a few minutes for any damage. What happened?"