Treacherous (Taylor x Fem OC)

Chapter 51

A/N: Welp...The Tortured Poets Department is now out. I'm not okay, I will not be okay, I cannot get enough of it.

Thought I'd FINALLY update in celebration of this masterpiece coming out.

I really want to be better at updating, I know I used to be very consistent, I will work on it. I graduate with my MFA in May (and turn 24 three days after) so I'll have a lot more time on my hands! I've also been stuck lately with writing in general, but I am here! And I will not abandon this story! (really trying to find ways to update/finish up other stories as well if you follow those too)

But here's the next chapter! It's VERY long as my way of apologizing for taking so damn long. Hope you enjoy! I love you, thank you.

PS: DO NOT ask me my favorite TTPD song because I promise you I simply cannot choose, they're all too good :D and heartbreaking :D besides So High School, that one makes me all giddy and has me kicking my feet.

Taylor POV

"So you found out?"

"Yes. I wanted her to tell you, I really did, Florence. I was so angry, so confused. And you have every right to be mad."

She scoffs, the dim glow of the fireplace in Wren's bedroom our source of light. All of our other friends are either crashed down in the living room or squished in a guest room. We're the only ones awake, each of us having our own bottles of Pinot Grigio between us while we wait for Wren to come back.

It's been five hours since she left and the sun is bound to rise soon. Every call has gone straight to voicemail, my texts building up like stacking blocks of blue without a gray bubble to interrupt.

Radio silence.

Florence hasn't tried. And I understand how mad she is, but I can also see the worry coursing through her despite her fury.

"Of course I am angry. She's been lying to me for years. And she went to see her? Taylor, how could you let that happen?"

I nurse the bottle in my arms before drinking straight from its opening, my lips making a popping noise as I pull it away, swallowing thickly with a sigh.

"We went originally so that Wren could cut her off. She talked to Doctor Fox, her therapist, about it, and she asked me to go with her. It's why we came to London to begin with. She was scared to go alone so she asked for help. You know her better than anyone, Florence. Wren doesn't ask for help. So this was huge for her, for us."

The dirty blonde nods slowly, studying the flames like they have the solution as her ears take in the full story. Her eyebrows are pulled in, forming creased lines on her forehead before her lips part, pushing out a small puff of air.

I try not to stare, but the voice in the back of my head urges me to get something, anything, to help mend this for her and Wren.

Florence swallows, and stares down at her bottle, head shaking side to side slowly.

"That is a big step for her."

A lift.

Minor shift, hopefully in a good direction. But Florence is a talker, and the small amount of words she just gave, though possibly positive, make me worry it's about to go back down.

"But she still lied, do you understand? Our whole friendship. All thirteen years, we've never lied to one another. The first instance was only when she was scared for me or anyone to know about the happenings in her own home. But once I did find out, despite being four years younger, I made a promise to protect her from those people.