𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 [t.s, t.k]

THIRTY FIVE | TAYLOR

THIRTY FIVE | TAYLOR
____

"This is so beautiful, Trav," I say softly, leaning into give him a kiss.

"Anything for you," he kisses me, "you know this." Our foreheads are pushing against each other, the tips of our noses are poking one another, and I can feel his smile prodding on my lips.

Tonight of all nights, Travis set up this beautiful date for us. I was in the studio all day, recording new tracks I'd not yet put together, given the lack of time I had. After Trav's game this evening, he brought me to a pavilion along the bayside. He'd hung little LED-star lights, lacing them around the ceiling. Large, bulky, red bows were tied around the crossbows. Stands of ivy were braided over the legs of the table and chairs. In the center of the table, Travis laid out a beautiful orchids and poinsettias, with candles the radiated the scent of vanilla into the air. He ordered a chef to cook his the finest spaghetti, well aware that it's my favorite meal on a special occasion. It was in the middle of December, and in Northern California, to say that it's freezing would be an understatement, so he'd even closed off the area with plexiglass and built a small fire in the corner of the pavilion to keep me from getting too chilly. The scenery on the other side of the plexiglass was gorgeous—there was literally snow on the beach, and above the horizon of the sea was a full moon, surrounded by a million little stars. Travis was dressed in a black slacks and a spotless white buttoned up dress shirt. He looked absolutely fresh, absolutely clean. I wore black skinny jeans, a black shirt-sleeve crop top, and Journee over-the-knee boots with thin, long heels. Because it was so cold, I wore Travis's plaid shirt that was mine now (his clothes no longer belong to him).

"Happy 33nd Birthday, Beautiful," he pants between breathless smooches.

"Thank you, handsome," I say, pulling away from the kiss. "This is so perfect, so over-the-top. You've put so much work into this. When did you even do this?"

He smirks mischievously. "You thought I was at practice today. Surprise!"

I gasp, slapping the back of my hand over his chest. "Travis," I hiss, jokingly, "you know better! You should have been at practice, you fool!"

He chuckles. "I talked to Andy. This was an expedition. Actually, he'd said that if I didn't, he'd be pretty upset with me."

I scoff, rolling my eyes. I smile at him. That smile, I love his smile. "I really do love this, baby, thank you. You should have gone to practice. There will be more December 13th's," I giggle. "Your team needed you."

He raises an eyebrows, a sly grin plastering his manner. "Well, I won the game, didn't I?"

I snicker, guiding my hand to his chest. "You did. With four touchdowns and a hundred-forty-seven yards, you won. I'm so proud of you."

"That means so much from me to hear that from you," he says. "May I walk you out on the beach?"

"Please do, it's beautiful out there. The food was so good, thank you." He clutches onto my hand and intertwines my fingers with his, leading me out onto the snowy ground.

____

I don't know how long we've been walking, but the pavilion is no longer in sight. We inches away from a reef. The song of the waves clashing together was so satisfying over our shoes crunching the white flakey snow beneath our feet. Still so beautiful, the snow glistened as it landed on our clothing. "It's so perfect out here," I said for maybe the thirteenth time tonight.