heroine (taylor swift and travis kelce)

change the prophecy

Her fingertip hovered over the block and delete button. It was four o'clock in the morning and she hadn't been able to sleep a wink. She'd sort of found herself expecting him to call, to text and apologise. To say something - anything. She didn't know if that's what she wanted. Did she want an apology? Did she want to hear from him again? Would this all be easier if he explained himself? Did he deserve her willingness to hear him explain what happened from her point of view? Or did all of these things just make her an idiot? Taylor didn't know.

There was a lot she didn't know. There was a lot about life that she didn't know, but this had to be one of the greatest mysteries of her life. One of the hardest things in her life.

Why did he do it?

Was it her fault?

If she'd done or said anything different, would it have happened?

How the fuck was she supposed to get out that red wine stain on her rug?

Taylor rolled over, dressed in new pyjamas that her Mom had found in the back of her closet. Her pillow was damp from tears. Her eyes were stinging, and her chest ached from sobbing silently for the past few hours. She couldn't sleep. She couldn't breathe properly. She didn't want this to be her narrative from now on. Even from her bedroom, from the other end of the apartment - she still felt too close. She still felt like she could feel him breathing on her, could still feel like it was playing out all over again.

Would it hurt less if she blocked him? If she removed him from her life entirely? If only she could remove him from her memories. They were all tainted, now. Stained by that fallen glass of red wine, stained by the hands that slipped through the waistline of her shorts. The hands that shoved her over the couch. The feeling of being unable to breathe. Frozen. The anger that came with that - for not being able to move, for freezing, for allowing it to happen to her. For not kicking and screaming and fighting and getting him off of her.

Taylor let out a little whimper. She'd really thought that Joe would be the worst heartbreak she'd ever experience. But this was... this was worse. Matty had kicked her when she was already down. He'd held their situationship over her head and taunted her with the prospect of something more. He had told her he loved her, that he'd marry her, that they'd spend forever together. Just to string her along, just to keep her holding on. Just to keep her dangling by a thread.  Like a silly little puppet, making her dance and laugh and skip, until he'd tired of her. Until he'd noticed the chipped paint and worn out clothing, the tarnished face and broken limbs. Then he'd tossed her aside - but not without taking that one last blow.

He'd killed a part of her. That childlike innocence, that part of her that she'd cherished. He'd obliterated that version of her in minutes, and he didn't even seem to realise what was going on. What he'd done.

Was it because he hadn't done anything wrong? They'd had sex before. Lots of times before. In lots of places, positions and times. They'd had sex that morning. And she'd wanted to at that time. But she hadn't wanted to have sex this evening. She hadn't wanted him to touch her in that way. He didn't listen. She felt guilty, calling it rape. Was it rape? Was it sexual assault? Taylor couldn't comprehend it. Was she just being dramatic? Was all of this distorted in her mind and he'd really done nothing wrong? She was confused, and her mind wouldn't stop thinking about it.

But if he'd done nothing wrong, why did she feel dead inside? Why did it hurt? Why did she have to sit there on the kitchen floor until her Mom got there? Why did her Mom have to help her into the shower? Why did she flinch when her Mom put her pyjama top on? If he'd done nothing wrong, why did it feel like what he'd done was branded across her forehead in red ink?

Why did it feel like she couldn't tell a single soul about what happened? That it was a secret that she was forbidden to tell - why did it feel like she was shattered?