Sky Full Of Stars (Kaylor)

Capsized ; Chapter 4

Only sixteen days after the wedding, did Taylor realize that she still had Karlie's suit jacket.

It was hidden in the far corner of her wardrobe, ominously. The baker was about to put the dirty garments inside the washing machine, and she had found it while rummaging through her clothes.

Taylor picked it up, slowly, touching it tentatively as if it would burn her if she held onto it a little bit tighter. Hesitantly, she moved it towards her face and put the soft fabric against her nose, smelling it with her eyes closed. Karlie's scent was still attached to it.

The baker let out a mindless sigh, looking at it and thinking back at the night the veterinarian had given it to her. It felt like a decade had passed from that night, when in reality it had only been barely over two weeks. They talked regularly, discovering new things about the other every day. Taylor thought about her constantly, almost way too much; she lingered on her mind at work, while she made lunch at her own home, or even when she was under the shower or about to fall asleep.

The last time the baker had felt like this was with — Emily. A woman who was four years older than her and incredibly gorgeous. She had met her at a bar one Friday night, while she had been out with friends. They had instantly clicked; Taylor was young, innocent, and Emily had been looking for love. They had been the perfect match, for a while. Almost two years. That was, until the older woman had found it appropriate to slip under the sheets of another man. The perfect reason for Emily to leave her and dump her ass. Taylor had been heartbroken; all she had done for weeks was cry on the shoulders of her compassionate and understanding friends. She had wished, multiple times, for her mother to still be alive and comfort her, take her weeping daughter in her arms and soothe her pain with a lullaby. And even though that could have never happened, Taylor moved on. She got over the ache in her heart, had told herself multiple times that Emily hadn't been worth of her love and time. That someone else was going to take her place and love her instead.

And now, having her brain react this way to this new woman, scared the shit out of her. It made her think about all the insecurities she had, all the secrets she had yet to reveal. But it also exhilarated her; the feeling of discovering someone's body for the first time, getting lost in someone new, in their imperfections and falling in love with each one of their characteristics.

Taylor shook her head; she didn't even know if Karlie liked girls. She couldn't fall for yet another straight girl. She wasn't sure she could handle getting her heart broken another time.

The blonde woman placed the suit jacket on the end of her bed, taking her phone out of the pocket of her pants. She quickly sent a message to Karlie:

Hey! Don't know if you've noticed, but I still have to return your suit jacket. Kind of forgot it. Sorry.

The blue bubble stared back at her. She guessed that Karlie was still working, it was early in the afternoon, and Taylor had the day off. She wanted to ask the other woman if she had plans for the night, if they could meet and maybe watch a movie together. It sounded really cozy, and Taylor really yearned Karlie's presence as of lately. They hadn't seen each other since the day they've hung out with the veterinarian's friends; almost five days ago.

Taylor decided to distract herself by playing the guitar.

Her mother had taught her how to play that instrument when she was only ten years old. After her death, just looking at the guitar hurt. She used to think about her mother whenever she played it, and then went on to let her tears land on the chords of the instruments. But now that she was older, playing the guitar was a good reminder of just how nice her mother had been when she was still alive. As her fingers danced across the strings, Taylor smiled, because she was reminded of all the great memories that they had shared together, instead of the grieving and sorrowful ones.