Disclaimer: No harm or offence is intended by this or any of my stories. It's pure fiction only partially or totally inspired by players and, in some case, by events that actually happened. Either way, I don't know these guys personally and my writings are meant to be purely for entertainment, so don't sue me, I can guarantee you it wouldn't be worth it anyway.
Notes: Addicted Taylor and hurt Nate for a nice change -
The display of the alarm clock read 4.12 a.m. when I opened my eyes for the first time that night.
I fumbled in the bed, grasping weakly the fresh sheets. He wasn't back yet. Wherever and whoever he was with, I didn't care anymore. Even worse, I couldn't tell if I was relieved or embittered not to find him there.
I didn't pick up the phone, he didn't bother to call either. I just knew he was out, doping up, and he knew I was home, waiting for him. He was sorry, he really was. But he just wouldn't stop and we sure as hell didn't talk about it. We argued. We fought. We threw glasses and screamed. But we did not talk. We did not communicate. There was no need. He knew the words I would say, I knew the answer he would reply with in his mind.
I curled into a ball and hugged my knees tightly, bathing in hot tears. I hid my face in there till I fell asleep again.
When I reopened my eyes, it was 6.43. He woke me up. Involuntarily. I heard him kicking the nightstand and swearing under his breath. I didn't move, though. I guess I was too tired to face the guilt on his face. I saw his shadow throwing his shirt on the floor and getting rid of his pants clumsily, as he panted with struggle to keep the balance.
He stretched like a cat and ruffled his own short hair as he glanced at me or the bed, I couldn't say. But then he went for the bathroom anyway. He picked his bag and headed to the shower. He didn't even bother to lock the door. Not that he needed to. It was a long time we weren't playing pretend anymore. And it hurt. It hurt like hell.
The third time, I didn't even open my eyes.
I squeezed them lightly, but I could tell he didn't notice. I did it because he scared me. His sweaty hand did. Anything could happen when he was on drugs, but what I didn't expect was his hand brushing my cheek. He was propped on his elbow, the other arm stretched to reach me.
Sometimes, he still touched me as if I was a flower. I guess he had to make up for all those crazy nights he didn't.
A wet kiss was pressed upon the side of my neck, his fingers dancing in circles on the purple bruise on my cheek, pressing slightly down on it.
“I missed you” he told me in a hoarse, regretful voice that made me want to punch him harder than ever. We used to be so different, only a year earlier. Now I could barely distinguish short blonde strands becoming one with red hair as he rolled on his side and hugged me from behind. His arms surrounded me and his legs intertwined with mine, the usual feeling of being both protected and locked up sticking to me. “I really missed you, baby.”
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Holy crap. I really really like this. Not usually a fan of Nate and Taylor but wow this is good! Feel really bad for Nate here.. poor guy! And your Taylor gave me this weird *blech* feeling.. Which I never ever thought could be possible lol.. thank you for this!
Julietds's response: Yay! Your review made me very happy, it's my first fic focused on this pairing and I was a little unsure about the outcome, so thank you very much :) I felt bad for Nate too, but it was a nice change writing about the dark side of Taylor!
CrazyInBC's response: 💕😊