✧ * 𝐒 𝐚 𝐟 𝐞 𝐚 𝐧 𝐝 𝐒 𝐨 𝐮 𝐧 𝐝 *✧

𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞

Taylors Pov:

 It's been about 10 minutes of me gently pacing my room with Rain in my arms. "Rain?" I ask, I am met with silence. She fell asleep very quickly. I look over my shoulder to see her peacefully sleeping, her eyes closed, and her mouth slightly open. She groans a little turning in my arms, her head turning to face my neck. I feel her soft breath on my neck. Taking careful steps, I approach my bed and carefully set her down on the soft mattress. She squirms a little before finally settling down with a contented sigh. Her drowsy eyes flutter open slightly, scanning the familiar surroundings before landing on me.

"Mm, Taylor?" She murmurs softly, still enveloped in the haze of sleep. With a warm smile, I bend over and gently tuck the blanket around her, ensuring she is cozy and warm. "Come here," she whispers, her arms reaching out for me. Responding to her quiet plea, I make my way around the bed and slide under the covers next to her.

"Taylor," Rain murmurs again, her voice heavy with drowsiness. 

"I'm right here, baby," I murmur back, reassurance evident in my tone. As she turns towards me, she curls up, seeking comfort in my presence.

 "My tummy hurts," she admits, the words muffled against my chest. Responding with care, I suggest, 

"Do you want me to scratch your back? Sometimes that works." I gently rub her back, waiting for her response.

"Mh," she mumbles softly, shifting her position to lie on top of me. With a tender touch, I slip my hand under her shirt and delicately run my fingertips along her back, offering comfort.

A few minutes passed as I tenderly rubbed Rain's back in an attempt to offer comfort and relief. Despite my efforts, she showed no signs of drifting off to sleep. As she began to squirm and whine, concern crept in. 

"Baby, are you feeling okay?" I inquired softly, my fingers never ceasing their gentle motions on her back. 

"No," she whimpered in response. My heart tightened at her distress, prompting me to ask, 

"How can I help soothe your upset stomach?" Leaning in to kiss her forehead, I felt the weight of her discomfort as she sat up and clutched her abdomen, tears welling up in her eyes. "Oh, baby," I murmured, gently holding her tear-streaked cheeks.

"I don't feel well," she whispered solemnly, her vulnerability tugging at my heartstrings. 

"I'm so sorry, baby. Are you feeling nauseous?" I inquired, trying to offer any kind of relief. With a brief nod, she swiftly slipped off the bed, darting towards the bathroom. Rising quickly and shedding the blanket, I followed her with concern etched on my face. As we entered the tiled room, Rain immediately positioned herself in front of the toilet, retching uncontrollably. Rushing to her side, I held back her hair and rubbed her back soothingly.

"It's okay, just let it out," I murmured softly, offering reassuring words amid her distress. Coughing between heaves, Rain eventually finished, her body finally relaxing against mine once more. 

"Have you finished?" I queried gently. Nodding weakly, she began to whimper softly, the remnants of discomfort lingering in the air.

"Do you feel better?" I asked her with concern written all over my face, my heart going out to her in her state of discomfort. She reached out, clasping my arms tightly and pulling them around her trembling body before resting her head gently against one of them.

"Yeah, but I don't like throwing up," she whimpered softly, her voice filled with a mixture of exhaustion and vulnerability, tugging at my heartstrings.

"I understand. It's definitely not a pleasant sensation," I responded soothingly, my hand instinctively moving to rub her stomach in a comforting gesture.

Her response came as a soft affirmation, her tears gradually subsiding in the warmth of the moment. 

"Yeah," she breathed out.

"Let's get you cleaned up and back to bed," I suggested gently. She replied with a nod, shifting to stand up from my lap as I rose beside her.

I approached the toilet, swiftly flushing away the remnants of her discomfort before handing her toothbrush and a dollop of toothpaste. 

"Here you go, let's freshen up and wash away all the yuckiness," I encouraged.

As she brushed her teeth, my hands moved tenderly up and down her back, a silent promise of support and care. 

"I think I should take your temperature," I proposed, bending down to retrieve the thermometer from the drawer.

Placing the thermometer in her ear, I awaited the beep that signified the end of the reading. "98.7," I announced, relieved to find no trace of fever as I carefully put the device away.

After rinsing her mouth and cleaning her toothbrush, she pondered aloud, 

"I think it was the pizza. Where did you get it from?" Curiously, she asked.

"Joe's Pizza," I disclosed, watching as she processed the information before saying,

 "Last time I had their pizza, I threw up. But that was when I was just 5 years old," she shared.

"I'm sorry," I tell her softly, hoping to console her as she struggles with a wave of nausea. "It's not your fault; it's my stupid stomach," she says back sympathetically, her voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

"Can we go back to bed?" she asks me in a gentle tone, her eyes seeking reassurance. I smile in response and nod affectionately, silently grateful for the opportunity to offer her comfort.

 "Let's go," I tell her, leading the way back to the cozy sanctuary of my bedroom. She follows, moving with grace and vulnerability, and I can't help but feel a surge of protectiveness towards her.

She crawls into bed, seeking solace in its familiar embrace. I follow her lead, settling close beside her. She curls up against me, finding comfort in the feel of my presence, resting her head on my chest.

"I'm sorry for throwing up," she whispers, her voice tinged with both apology and vulnerability. "What! Rain, don't apologize for that. You can't control it," I reassure her, my hand rubbing circles on her back in a soothing gesture. I watch as her eyes flutter closed, exhaustion finally claiming her after the turmoil of the evening. With a sense of gratitude and deep affection, I hold her close as she drifts off to sleep in the protective embrace of my arms.

As I lightly scratch my nails on Rain's back, a soothing sensation envelops the room. Suddenly, a familiar melody fills the air – her ringtone playing the soft tune of "Daylight." My hand instinctively reaches out and retrieves her phone resting on the nightstand beside me. Glancing at the screen, I notice the name displayed - "Harper❤️." With a sense of protectiveness, I end the call and gently return the phone to its place. Resuming my gentle touch on Rain's back, I feel a wave of contentment knowing she is safe in my embrace.

Lost in the moment, the peaceful silence is interrupted by the repetitive buzz of Rain's phone. Without hesitation, I swiftly silence the ringer to prevent any disturbance to her peaceful slumber. Curiosity gets the better of me as I gaze at the notifications illuminating the lock screen.

Among the various messages, I notice a string of texts from Harper❤️

 Harper❤️ : Why aren't you picking up?

Harper❤️ : Is this still "Taylor" 

Harper❤️ : You know I dont beilve that right

Harper❤️ : You're making a fool of yourself

 As I am about to respond to the text, a sudden realization strikes me - the phone in my hand belongs to Rain, and I am not aware of her passcode. With a sense of responsibility, I swiftly remove the messages from her lockscreen and delicately place the phone back on the bedside table. Returning to Rain's side, I observe her peaceful slumber with a mix of concern and empathy. It pains me to see this young girl, innocent in her sleep. She doesn't deserve what has happened to her.

ITS SO SHORTTTTTT