The Caretaker - Emeto fanfiction
TW: emeto, sickness. These two have been my roman empire for the past few months and I decided to write down a moment of vulnerability between them that I imagined. I hope you like it, but if you didn't, please just scroll and don't be mean to me, please 🥹 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- "You were just amazing last night, babe. The crowd was insane. Everyone's talking about it" Travis said, checking the news on his phone. The soft glow of the Parisian afternoon filtered through the curtains. His eyes were twinkling, always amazed by his girl's performances and the comments about it afterwards.
Taylor smiled back, but it was faint. "What? Is there something wrong?" he asked, noticing how uncommonly her hand was resting on her midsection. "I don’t know. My stomach feels off." she admitted.
His expression shifted to concern, getting closer and evolving her in a loving hug. "Uh-oh, did we go too hard on the crepes for breakfast?" he joked, kissing her face. His eyes softened when she didn’t laugh. "Do you want me to get you something? Water, maybe?"
She nodded, grateful for his attentiveness. "Yeah, water might help. I’m hoping it’s just something small." She sat down on the bed. "I think I’m gonna lie down for a bit before we go out tonight, ok? Maybe a nap will do the trick."
"Good idea," he agreed, brushing a kiss against her forehead. "Take your time, I’ll be here."
She smiled softly, heading to the bed, and he watched her until she pulled the blankets over herself. Her eyes fluttered closed, exhaustion and discomfort mingling as she drifted off.
It looked like she had just closed her eyes when something woke her up. It was still bright outside, she could see it even through the fancy blackout curtains. She rolled over in bed, her eyes catching Travis standing by the balcony, talking on his phone. His voice was low, casual, he had no idea she could hear him:
"Yeah, man, it’s been incredible so far." he was saying, his eyes sweeping over the view of the Parisian rooftops. "We’re gonna take a stroll later, me and Tay, maybe grab dinner with a few friends of her. I'll let you know."
She shifted in bed, trying to decide if she should get up and join him or try to get back to sleep, since the nap hasn't been enough time to rest. As she moved, though, a familiar wave of nausea hit. She clutched her stomach, a groan escaping her lips.
Travis must have heard the sound because his voice hesitated on the line. "Hold on a sec, man," he said, turning his head towards the bed. "Babe, you good?"
Before she could even answer, the nausea overwhelmed her, and she bolted out of bed, rushing to the bathroom. The door swung shut behind her, and the muffled sounds of her retching echoed from inside.
Travis’s face tensed with concern. He hurried off the call, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I gotta go, something’s up with Taylor." He hung up, placing his phone on the nightstand as he quickly approached the bathroom door.
"Hey, Tay, you okay in there, babe?" he asked gently, knocking softly. He could hear her, the strained noises and the faint sound of running water as she attempted to steady herself. His heart sank a little.
"I thought I was, but…" she started, but the wave hit her again.
"Is it coming from down or upper?" he teased with a grin, trying to lighten the moment.
Taylor, despite her discomfort, let out a soft laugh. "Upper, thankfully. But it feels like everything’s upside down."
He opened the door cautiously, finding her leaning over the toilet, her face pale and beads of sweat clinging to her forehead. She looked up, flushing it, embarrassed but relieved to see him. "It’s just… ugh, this stupid stomach. I knew something was off"
Travis didn’t hesitate. "I'm sorry about that," he said, stepping closer and kneeling down, rubbing her back in soothing circles. "How about we get you back to bed, and I’ll bring some ginger tea? You barely even slept."
"I know, right? I've been down for what? Fifteen minutes?" There was concern in her face too, the fact that the nausea had woken her up right after closing her eyes.
"Yeah, twenty minutes or so. Jason called right when you fell asleep and he was still on the phone with me when you got up, so quick that it was" Travis said, getting up on his feet and pulling her up. She nodded, her expression softening. "I’m sorry, Trav… Maybe if I go to sleep again… I don't know, there's still time until the time we planned to leave, right? I can get better."
He shook his head, pulling Taylor in for a comforting hug. "Nah, none of that. We’ll take it easy tonight. We'll order room service and have a cozy night in. The city can wait."
"No, babe, really. I want to feel better. I want to go for a stroll around Paris with you. I've been dreaming about this all week."
Taylor couldn’t help but smile through the discomfort, around his loving arms. Travis always had this way of making things feel okay, even when they clearly weren’t: "It's ok. Rest for a while, when you're up again we see if we should stay or go." Said the footballer, as he helped her back to the bed.
A few hours later, Taylor stirred awake from her nap, blinking as she adjusted to the dimming Paris light. She stretched, feeling her body finally relax a bit after the rough past moments. The discomfort in her stomach had faded, and she was determined to make the most of the night. They were in Paris, after all.
“You sure you’re up for it?” he asked, watching while she showered, a protective look on his face. “Definitely. I feel so much better now” she assured him, putting on her brightest smile. Her eyes were full of determination, and Travis, always doing his best to support her, nodded.
“Alright, but only because you’re looking at me with those eyes” he grinned “And because you look this good naked in front of me.”
Both laughed. As soon as she finished the shower Taylor moved to the closet, letting the bathroom free for Trav. He entered, closed the door and busied himself in there, the buzz of his electric razor drifting out, a sound proof that he would take a while before showering, as he always did when it came to his beard.
Outside, the singer was pulling out a stunning dress she’d picked for the night and then applying her makeup carefully, every stroke feeling like an affirmation of her renewed energy. "I'm so glad I'm feeling better. Tonight will be perfect." she thought.
In the very end – as the sound of the shower was already on, inside the bathroom – she had just fastened her heels, and was ready to finish the look with her famous red lipstick, when a familiar twinge hit her again on this day, even stronger than before. Taylor paused, one hand on her stomach. She took a deep breath, trying to shake it off. "No, not again, please" she thought, looking at the closed bathroom door, closing her eyes and willing herself to push through.
The feeling intensified. She could hear Travis humming in the shower, and she didn’t want to bother or scare him. He’d been nothing but patient and sweet all day. She took another breath, steadying herself, but the wave of nausea surged, and this time, it wasn’t something she could ignore. She moved as quickly as she could toward the bathroom door, knocking.
“Trav? Babe, can you hurry up in there?, please” she called, her voice a little strained. There was too much noise inside with the strong jets of water from the fancy shower, he couldn't listen.
"Babe? Please!"
She knocked, even more strongly and received a silence back, as if the shower was shut off in a sudden, right before Travis opened the door, his lower body wrapped in a white towel, and a scared look on his face, taking one look at her: “Gonna be sick again?” he asked, his brows furrowing as she ran inside and tried to reach for the toilet, but it wasn't fast enough. The nausea overwhelmed her, and she spat a little on the floor on the way to the sink, that was closer. There, her slim body shuddered with each wave, finally letting it all out.
“Whoa, easy there, Tay,” Travis said, immediately moving to her side. He rubbed her back, his other hand holding her hair out of the way. "Alright, just let it out, babe. You'll feel better. Let it out" he encouraged, rubbing her back gently.
Wiping her mouth, Taylor said, mortified, reaching for the facial towel. “I’m so sorry… I thought I was fine.”
She shuddered, another wave coming up, and this time it was more intense. The noise that came with it was harsh. A retching sound that echoed in the bathroom, mixing with the splatter of the vomit hitting the ceramic basin. Her eyes watered, and she coughed, her face flushed with embarrassment.
Travis winced slightly at the sight but kept his hands on her back, offering steady support.
"Watch your step" he guided her – deviating from the puddle on the floor – to the border wall of the bath, where she could sit for a while, after all, while he cleaned up the little mess and dressed himself in the shirt and shorts he had just taken off before the shower and were still around.
"Babe, I'm sorry – she said, watching while he did the cleaning around – It's so gross and I'm really embarrassed."
Travis could see she was feeling miserable. He shook his head, calming her down: "It’s just human stuff, Tay. We all go through it. Don't feel bad". When the floor was clean enough, he approached her with gentle eyes: "Let's take off this dress, ok? Arms up.” said, softly, helping her out of the dress. The fabric, now damp and stained, slipped off her shoulders as he carefully peeled it away. "I like it better when I'm not sick while you do it, you know…" she mumbled and they both let out a mischievous laugh.
“We'll be back to doing it in no time, don't worry.” he replied, his eyes meeting hers with a soft smile “As soon as you're feeling better".
He reached for a bath towel and gave it to her, so she could wrap herself in it. While she was doing it, he sat behind her and grabed a washcloth, running it under the warm water of the bathtub, spreading it through Taylor's collar and shoulders. The touch was gentle and he was taking care to make her feel comfortable.
When he reached her hair, he grimaced. “Oh, babe, we’ve got a bit of a situation here.” He wiped away the remnants that had tangled in her hair. “Looks like Paris really left its mark tonight,” he joked, making her smile despite the situation. "Gross. Could you go get my pajamas while I take a shower and get this all off of me?" she asked, feeling strong enough to stand up and go to the shower again.
The night hadn't gone quite as planned, but even through the mess and the sickness, she felt better for knowing her boyfriend was, and would always be there for her, no matter what.