Brooklyn - Taylor Swift

Part 13

The clock on the nightstand ticked relentlessly, its rhythmic sound echoing through the dimly lit room. I lay in bed, my eyes fixated on the ceiling, as sleep continued to elude me. I wish I were back at my place in New York; out of all my rooms around the world, that one is my favourite. While the meeting room in that house has its ceiling covered with constellations, the bedroom's ceiling has a detailed map of the world, which I currently long to explore. 

The familiar battle with insomnia again took hold of my restless mind, refusing to release its grip. Cora's terminal diagnosis weighed heavily on my heart, intertwining with the anticipation and anxiety of Taylor's upcoming Fourth of July party. My thoughts are running wild tonight. I had already snuck into Taylor's music room to finish the song I wrote on the beach earlier, which I have coincidently named Beach (Axel Flóvent). Not even music could still my mind tonight.

The room felt suffocating, the silence magnifying the racing thoughts in my mind. I shifted restlessly beneath the covers, desperately seeking a more comfortable position. Cora's soft snores mixed with my own restless energy, creating an unpleasant symphony of sounds. She had snuck in about two hours ago, complaining that Cara kicks too much in her sleep and that Dibbles had wandered off.

As I tried to push away the thoughts of the looming party and my sister's illness, my mind wandered to Taylor. She had become more than just a friend to me, and the depth of my feelings for her both thrilled and terrified me. We shared laughter, secrets, and late-night conversations that left my heart yearning for more. But Taylor is forbidden. She is clearly in some sort of situationship with Tom, and I respect her too much to interfere with that. Not to mention she's straight, so I have no chance with her. Even knowing that isn't enough to stop my yearning, though, and the realisation that my feelings for Taylor surpass friendship is terrifying.

The weight of uncertainty pressed upon me tonight filling my mind with doubts and insecurities. Frustration bubbled up within me, mingling with the bone-deep fatigue that had settled in. It was clear that sleep would not claim me tonight. With a sigh, I decided to embrace the stillness of the night. I slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Cora, who needed all the rest she could get. If I couldn't find rest, I might as well make good use of my time.

I tiptoed out of the room, venturing down to the kitchen, finding myself by the patio doors as I gazed at the darkness outside. The moon cast a soft glow upon the world, its tranquil light a balm for my weary soul. The cool night air greeted me as I opened the window slightly, letting in a gentle breeze that whispered promises of a new day.

Leaning against the wall, I let my gaze wander over the quiet beach. The waves lapped against the sand softly, undisturbed by the thoughts that consumed me. In this quiet solitude, I often found solace, a respite from the chaos that swirled within. All be it usually, I'm watching the lake, not the sea, but it seems all bodies of water hold the same calming effect.

Lost in my contemplation, I was caught off guard by a voice that sounded right next to my ear. Startled, I jumped, and a cloud of flour erupted into my face as the bag I held jolted in my hands. "Jesus, Tay, don't sneak up on me like that," I huffed, coughing to clear the flour from my lungs. I glanced down at the counter, realising I had just finished cleaning it. At some point, during all my thoughts, I had moved away from the back door. I moved to the counters in the kitchen, tackling the task of making all those cookies I had promised Cora yesterday.

Taylor laughed, moving around the counter to sit in front of me. Our positions were now reversed from the morning before, bringing a sense of familiarity and comfort. "Do you ever sleep?" She asked, her voice tinged with amusement.

I sighed, grabbing a towel to wipe the flour off my face. "I sleep... sometimes," I mumbled, half-heartedly cleaning up after myself. "Oh yeah? When? It's only six am right now, and we were playing truth or dare well past two am. Judging by the number of cookies on my dining table, I will assume you've been baking for a while..." Taylor's eyes burned into mine; concern etched on her face. "Maybe I don't sleep. What's it to you?" I replied, my tone sharper than intended. The words hung in the air, lingering between us before Taylor broke the silence with a soft sigh.