I PLAN TO TURN THIS INTO A SERIES !!
🍂( This will be 5 parts I think x) 🍂
PROOF READ 3x
NO TW !! 💋
fluff + wholesome <3 -- ENJOYYYYYY x 🫶
Taylor's blue eyes met yours from across the fancy dining table at the party. She flashed you a smile, then looked back down at her plate of food - carbonara - gripping her fork tightly. She took a small bite of pasta from the tip of her fork, and something willed her to look back up at you. As she did, to her surprise, your eyes were already on her face.
This time you smiled, and Taylor's stomach fluttered like the wings of the butterflies that fluttered around on the porch.
You instantly looked back down, attempting to focus on your food, but you could feel her heavy, blue-eyed gaze lingering. Something was drawing her to you.
After the host (Aaron Dessner) had the caterers clear away the tables of plates, the small crowd filed out into the garden. The scent of freshly mowed grass filled your noses, the overhead lights twinkled and refracted off the pool water and up some birch, wooden steps was a large, hexagonal porch with a hot tub, chairs and loveseats in pretty pastel pinks and blues.
Aaron sat on a chair and all his work friends sat down on the scattered seats nearby. Aaron watched Taylor for a moment, expecting her to sit with him and his bandmates, but Taylor waited and watched to see where you'd seat yourself, so she wouldn't be too far away from you.
He caught on to what she was doing, and so didn't call her over, instead just watching with a small smile.
Her eyes never left you as you seated yourself on a small couch near the back, then she made her way towards you, asking politely if she could sit beside you.
"May I sit with you?"
Really, what she meant was:
"May I kiss you?"
But of course, the two of you had only ever met formally in hallways or in meeting rooms at your workplace, so it would only deem itself inappropriate.
"Of course you may." You replied with a respectful smile, patting the spot beside you and she set herself down, placing her handbag between her feet.
"It's Y/N, right?" She asked, softly.
She knew that she was right; there was no need to ask. She just desperately wanted to start a conversation with you, but she knew damn well who you you were.
She knew you were Y/N - M/N- L/N. She knew you were 22 years old, grew up in H/T (hometown). She knew you had two Y/C (your choice of animals) and knew you had a NY apartment.
She knew you were a family friend of Aaron Dessner, and had helped him to help Taylor with Folklore and Evermore. She knew your safe food was plain pasta with cheese, that loud noises overstimulated you and that you'd find any excuse to play the piano.
She knew all these things because she asked about you. She asked about you all the time. Whenever she saw Aaron she'd ask about you. She was obsessed really, but who could blame her? You were like a dream to her. Aaron just let it be. He let her admire you. It was nice to have someone so trustworthy handle the heart of someone he could consider a sister.
"Yeah. Would I be right in calling you Taylor?" You responded breathily, not really making eye contact with her. Her blue eyed gaze was quite daunting, but it wasn't entirely her fault. Taylor's pupils began to drown out her irises the longer she looked at you, to the point where they were so dilated her eyes could've gone black.
