The Lucky One (2) - Taylor Swift

35

"Hey, you," Taylor brought a large cup of water with a lid and straw into the living room of their New York apartment the day after New Year's and offered it to her girlfriend.

They'd gotten back from upstate the evening before. Grace made Taylor drive very slowly on the way home because she had a lot of anxiety about being in the car again, especially with the winter roads. She had a mask over her eyes, still sensitive to too much light and quick movement. Most of the concussion symptoms were fading like the bruises and cuts on Grace's skin, but headaches lingered sometimes.

She had problems with her memory still, sometimes a little more dazed than she probably should have been. She got the okay to go home and try to resume normal light activities and physiotherapy for both arms and her shoulder.

"Hi, darling," Grace carefully used her left hand to type one letter a time on her laptop, it was slow and tedious.

"What are you doing? Do you need help?" Taylor leaned over the back of the sofa and gasped, "Grace Kent, you are not working."

"I am," the brunette murmured, "I can still type with my index finger."

"Nope, you are supposed to rest," Taylor walked around the couch and pulled the laptop away before she closed it and left it on the far side of the coffee table after glancing at what Grace was working on, "While I agree that budgeting for merch production is important, the entire team knows you're going to be off until you get your casts off."

"What do you expect me to do then? Stare at the wall and twiddle my thumbs? I can't even move my thumbs!" Grace looked down at the cast, it wrapped right around her thumb leaving them pretty much useless unless she wanted to unlock her phone, which was very hard to use or hold.

"There is lots we can do," Taylor kept her voice calm even though Grace had started to yell at her. She knew that wasn't really Grace talking, Grace wouldn't do that before the concussion and irritability had become all too common since, "It's only for a few more weeks, my love."

"Please tell me some things we can do," Grace was actually looking for something, anything. She was going to get so bored, it had only been three hours since Taylor helped her shower and get ready for the day and she was already losing her mind.

Taylor paused as she thought about. Everything they normally did seemed impossible to do at the moment.

"Exactly! I can't cook, can't play chess, can't tolerate being in the car, can't play piano, can't work out, can't have sex. Nothing, I can't even hold a book."

"Do you want to play chess? I'll move the pieces for you," the singer offered. They had the chess board set up at almost all times, Grace still played nearly every day.

"I want a shot, an orgasm and to be able to use my thumbs," Grace sighed, "Thank you for the offer. I'm sorry I got frustrated."

"Spread your legs and take off your pants," Taylor grinned, "I can solve one of those problems."

"The doctor said not for at least a week. The stupid concussion symptoms should go away first."

"I know," she nodded, "I was just teasing. I'm sure we'll figure it out though."

"I do not necessarily require my fingers, you're right," Grace hummed with a tiny smirk. Taylor laughed and leaned over to give her a kiss, "You're the best. I appreciate you helping me while I'm useless."

"You're not useless," Taylor pecked her lips once more, "Trust me, you are good company at the very least. I'm gonna go upstairs and take a shower, do you want me to put on the TV or are your eyes hurting?"