We Are Written in the Stars - Kaylor

3. No One Can Hurt You Now

Author's note: In light of recent events, have some Kaylor fluff

Taylor was ten when she first visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Four long years since that last dream.

Overnight, Taylor's fascination with history had branched to include Vikings, posters of their ships and fashions now adorning her bedroom walls. It seemed that, along with Dee, and the still-thriving mint plant on her windowsill, Taylor's room was turning to a mini-museum of her mystery girl.

After that second dream, Taylor had chased after something, anything that would trigger another. She wanted to see that girl again, desperately.

Andrea would lose her daughter halfway through clothes shopping, always finding her with hands roaming over silk-like dresses, the same expectant look on her face.

Some days she would come home to find her daughter lying on her stomach on top of the couch, face completely buried in Dee's fur, as if she lost something in her cat.

One clear night, Andrea had rushed outside to find Taylor sitting in the middle of the backyard, flashlight in hand and Dee in her lap, staring at the clear night sky.

Two years of chasing after a glimpse of green eyes and Taylor had almost lost hope, that precious, familiar feeling the dreams had elicited fading from memory. The thought that she may never experience it again terrified her.

But soon enough, she was caught up in the whirlwind of primary school. More often than not, maths and spelling kept thoughts of green eyes at bay.

That day though, her inner history nerd had been brought out full force. She and her fourth grade class were taking a day trip to the New York museums. Everyone would take a tour of the Natural History Museum, and their choice of one other building.

Both Taylor and her best friend Abigail had chosen to join the group for the Met. She had met Abigail when they were seven, when the tiny redhead girl shoved a boy who was making fun of Taylor's pigtails. The pair had been inseparable ever since.

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The bus left early, enough time was needed for the long drive. Taylor and Abigail had waved to their moms from the bus window, their green and pink backpacks crammed with enough peanut butter sandwiches to feed a village.

The pair spent most of the ride with Taylor animatedly describing New York as best as she could remember, buildings and flowers and all. Abigail was the only one who knew about Taylor's dreams, and both girls were hopeful that something from today would let Taylor see the woman again. Taylor was hesitant to tell her friend it was a girl, rather than a boy she dreamt of, but Abigail was unfazed, only interested in the joy it obviously brought her friend.

Three hours and a snack break later, the girls began to explore the Met. Abigail took the lead, pulling Taylor to any painting that featured a blonde woman, leaves, or cats. Needless to say she was dragged to many pieces of art that morning.

"Tay! Look at this!" Taylor wearily looked up at yet another large painting, nearly as tall as her, depicting a stern looking, thin-lipped woman.

"Her hair's blonde!" Abigail proudly pointed out before staring intently at her friend. "So? You getting anything?"

Taylor shook her head, mouth twisted to one side in thought.

"No," she sighed. Taking a closer look at the painting, she shook her head again, more decidedly. "Her eyes aren't the right colour," she muttered dejectedly.