All We Know Is Falling - A Tayley Fanfiction

Chapter 7: All I Wanted

I spend a good minute staring into Taylor's eyes, blushing slightly, after he says those incredible words. It gives me some time to think about exactly what's happening here. He loves me. Anyone could see it, and heaven knows I've been an idiot over the past few years to even vaguely ignore it.

And I...I...love him. I think I have to admit it to myself now, but I'm trapped in him and there's no way that I can get out. And well...I don't really want to escape him now. It'll have some consequences, I know that much, but I want to be with him now.

Eventually, he shifts, and says gently, "Hayles, it's getting late. You...you can stay here if you want...I mean..." - at this point he looks down, smiling awkwardly - "I'm not suggesting anything - you can sleep on the sofa - but maybe you'll feel better here? It's...it's ok if you don't want to, but..."

I look at him shyly. "Yeah...T, that would be great, if it's ok...?"

He nods, asking me about takeout preferences as he leaves the room. We spend the evening eating, laughing about insignificant things that still seem to mean so much when they're hanging in the air between us. Taylor puts Wayne's World on - he's always had it at his house, he knows it's your favourite movie of all time, he keeps it there at the top of his pile of DVDs no matter what...Hayley, why are you such an idiot? - and it's only when it's past 1 am that I fall asleep, coming to rest against his arm.

When I wake, I'm tucked in oh-so-carefully under one of Taylor's old blankets. I can just imagine him tucking me in, wrapping me up...gently kissing my forehead before he leaves? I hope so, but I can't get my hopes up. We haven't yet tried to begin to explain what's happening between us.

The sun is just beginning to rise outside the window, and checking my phone I see that it's 7:08 am. Sleepily, I remove the blanket and stand, making my way out of the room to search for T. As I'm walking, I can't help but notice all the little details in Taylor's house that I love. There are all these tiny things about him that match me so perfectly.

In the kitchen I find a plastic bag on the table. Inside...waffles done exactly the way I like them! I can't believe it - he remembered what I always order at Waffle House and bought them for me this early in the morning. Such a typical Taylor move, ever the gentleman. Attached to the bag is a Post-It note. I pick it up and see an adorable "ta-daaaaaaa! t x" written on it in his signature scrawl. It's perfect and exactly what I need.

As I go to start eating the waffles - my knight in shining armour has made no appearance as of yet - I realise that the receipt is still inside. Casually, I go to throw it away, when I see that the time marked at the top is 1:32 am. So Taylor left the house as soon as I fell asleep - despite it being past the witching hour - to find me my favourite breakfast? And yet they are warm, so he must have woken up early in order to heat them up ready for me. He must have had a maximum of 5 hours sleep.

I'm still smiling at this benevolent gesture when I hear a quiet but gruff, "Good morning sleepyhead..." from behind me. I turn, finding my hero, wearing nothing but boxers and a t-shirt, standing in the doorway. I'm almost embarrassed by the situation at first, and I look down, biting my lip, but then I remember exactly how much he's done to make sure that I'm happy, and I look up, grinning, and run to him. Of course, a bear hug is in order, and he envelopes me in his arms.

Looking up, I see that he's looking down at me, grinning cheekily. I smile. "Thank you," I say once. Again. "Thank you," Once more. "Thank you," I say, this time my smile widening. And I mean it. Not just for the waffles, but for cheering me up again, for reaching out to me when I was down.

And I can't resist it any longer.

I reach up, gently caressing the stubble along his jawline, and kiss him. Slowly, gently, sweetly. The moment that our lips meet sends a spark all through my body, and I find myself, ever so slowly, drawing his body closer to mine. He gathers me up, supporting me so that I can reach him better. We are instantly harmonised, me and him, like we should have been years ago. When I break away, my lips feel hot. None of Chad's casual kisses ever made me feel like this.

We spend the rest of the day writing music, laughing together, and...squeal!...kissing, but not going further than that. We have all the time in the world to be together. One song seems to come together almost instantly - we call it "Pool" and it's carved almost exactly around my feelings for Taylor, and everything that's happened to us.

The evening comes, and I'm scrolling idly through Taylor's Spotify - songs surprise me; he's got so much there that I would never expect him to listen to, like Three Days Grace, some Flyleaf, Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit - when my phone rings. The name sends a dagger to my heart.

It's Chad.

"Hayley...where are you? I...ahem...came home from Las Vegas early, this morning, and you weren't there. You haven't left the house in weeks. Hayley...WHERE ARE YOU?"