she only ever wanted to see the sun;

Like a wild flower; she spent her days, allowing herself to grow, not many knew of her struggle, but eventually all; knew of her light. Taylor Evans Soft and Starved

[tcylrevcns]

nixwilde‌:

There was always moments in life that felt like it was meant to be defining, like it was meant to be something more than what laid on the surface. This feeling bubbled up deep within the wolf’s chest as he stared over at Taylor. The vampire that, against all odds, had become a lasting member of his friends and family as the nomad attempted to form a life rooted in a single place. The sight before him stirred something deep inside of him. It wasn’t pity, no Nixon didn’t pity the vampire before him. He knew that was the last thing she would ever want. The feeling that pushed him forward, letting the fabric of his flannel fall to the tiled ground, was concern and compassion. Taylor was a beautiful soul, one who was forced into a life that she had never really wanted. Seeing her struggle, witnessing her own form of suffering was agonizing for him. Nixon shook his head lightly, taking small cautious steps towards the woman before him. “You’re starving, Tay”, he repeated, a gentleness in his voice. Nixon didn’t want to startle her, but he was all too aware of the delicate line that he was walking on. 

With her words, it was then he realized that there wasn’t much that he wouldn’t do to try to make her world seem a little less dark. It would be the least he could do for the woman who had been almost a beacon while he was in such a dark place. “It’s probably a terrible idea”, he laughed, the hint of a grin tugging up on his stubble covered cheeks. “It’s probably an awful idea, but it’s the only one that seems right. I don’t want you to walk out of this house and have to try to make it home starving. I don’t want you to live with hurting someone”, he paused, the cautious steps not ceasing as he neared her. Nixon knew the possibility of her losing control was high, just as it was for all new vampires. But he also was aware of who she was as a person, past the creature she had become. He liked to believe that he knew her heart. “I know you’ll stop”, he offered, a hand coming out to brush back a lose strand of his dark locks. “I could give you a long list of all the reasons why I know you would stop, the top two being my trust in you and that little girl out there”, his speech continued, pads of his fingers brushing against her icy skin. The vast difference in their temperatures send a wave of chills cascading up his arm, but the wolf refused to let that distract him further. “I won’t force you to do anything, Taylor. But I want you to know that I’m here when you need it. You don’t scare me.”

It certainly wasn’t something she needed to be told, it was like fire in her throat, burning in the pit of her stomach and promising to remain until she burnt from the inside out. Quite literally. It didn’t matter that the act of feeding from anyone more than alive, and even drinking from a blood bag turned her stomach, metaphorically speaking, the very real prospect of blood deprivation terrified her far more. It didn’t feel right, asking him to do this, allowing him to offer himself up so readily, then again, a lot of things hadn’t felt right for a long time. The facets of her life that had so surely slipped between her fingers far too many considering all she’d ever wanted was a reason to smile; something she almost seemed to lack entirely as of late. Stability had stemmed only from her dire need to hold herself together now; and the man that’d offered a safe haven from the world intent on crushing her. All he’d ever asked of her was the same. Someone to bear the weight with when the world grew darker than the fall of night. Taylor didn’t move, she wasn’t entirely sure she could; perhaps too afraid that if she did, he might too and the strike of such a beating heart against his chest was already far too much to ignore.  His shadow cast eerily across the remaining light that might have illuminated already uncertain features. The internal war that raged within only seemingly burning brighter at the prospect she feared the most; hurting anyone simply wasn’t who she was, it wasn’t who she’d ever been, and now she’d been forced to become a creature built for destruction. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.” She spoke quietly enough that Taylor wasn’t even certain she’d said it at all, the thought alone broke her, an ice cold palm lifting to hold onto some semblance of distance between them as he approached. “You’re putting a lot of faith into someone who doesn’t feel anything while...” It was like everything disappeared, and the only thought that ever entered her mind was sinew between her teeth and the distinct desire to not stop. Though, perhaps; he wasn’t human and she didn’t entirely know how his blood would differ, she’d heard things, but experience it first hand was something else entirely. Crystalline hues closed for a passing moment as she considered how foolish he was being, the little girl in the other room the very reason he shouldn’t have even thought to offer such a thing, yet there he stood, handing it over as the reason he believed she’d show some sense of control. “I scare me, Nix.” An admittance that passed in barely a whisper, “It terrifies me, and it should scare you. This should scare you.” Her palm fell flat against his chest, right above his heart where she paused, listening to the steady thrum of life in his veins. How beautifully tragic it could be that such a sound could rise awe and terror within her empty chest in the same fleeting moment. Stuck somewhere between such awe and thriving hunger, she could find herself so easily distracted by the steady pulse at his throat, fingertips rising to trail along the veins she could feel beneath his skin until she reached his collarbone, “This should scare you.”

[tcylrevcns]

@radical-rory

It seemed near impossible to find the light of day without a plethora of unanswered questions in in the days following the unthinkable. Regardless of whether she was entirely aware that raising the dead wasn’t so farfetched in a world such as theirs, she’d never known it to such an extent --- and still, entirely different to what she’d known before. Difficult still, to work her way through the people she’d yet to get in contact with, certainly no level of shock brought to her when she’d worked out all too late that her phone had likely slipped out of her pocket and lay beneath the graveyard state of the farm. The growing sunlight did little to placate her, Taylor as much stuck within the confines of the closest place she could find until night washed over the town; gods if she didn’t miss the warm touch of sunlight on her skin.  Her call never went through, the few she’d managed in the blizzard of chaos and yet the one that left her most unsettled was the single call that never connected; the woman still wholly unaware that he’d tried to text her at any such point. His place was empty; she’d never needed to knock, the stillness of his home was more than enough to tell her that the werewolf who, in all the time she’d known him, had been anything but quiet wasn’t, wasn’t there. Forgoing the bars; she figured they’d be too crowded, she’d never find anyone within them after such a mess, her second option remained the dispensary, even if it was closer to midnight than she’d realized. “Rory?” Never truly one for a little.. break and enter, she could have barely helped it as the lock snapped beneath her rushed grip to knock, the closed sign not nearly enough to dissuade her; she could hear his heartbeat even from here. “Rory?” The door closed and with each passing moment that she heard little else other than the low thrum of a beating heart her throat seemed to constrict.  Azure hues flickered and her gaze grew more worrisome than she’d first been as she sidestepped the counter to reach for the door to the back; only for it to fling outwards towards her. “Holy shit. --- Rory, god damn it.” One would have thought the sense of a vampire might have whittled away the possibility of feeling the throngs of a jump scare, intended or not. Hand pressed to a heart that didn’t beat, and piercing azure hues looked the wolf over almost frantically, “-- You’re okay. You’re okay, right?” It didn’t matter.. she couldn’t bottle concern and the heated spike of relief that bloomed in the pit of her chest as she stepped into him, furling both arms around his waist, refusing the toxic memory of the last time she’d even dared find herself so close to him. When she spoke, it fell quietly, muttered against the warmth of his shoulder, “I thought..-- I tried calling you..”

[tcylrevcns]

nixwilde‌:

Nixon was no fool, he knew that this town was one build on history and tradition. It was their history that made the invisible walls around them, it was also what bound many of the citizens of the town together. But him? He was nothing more than an outsider. A packless outsider who only had one drive, to keep his niece safe and alive. But the wolf didn’t need to of been a town regular at the coffee shop to be able to read the distress that washed over Taylor’s usually peaceful features. The smile he had grown comfort in was no where to be seen and her gaze never seemed to meet his own. Careful steps carried him across the small home and into the kitchen, the dim light seeming to be the only one on in the house. Almost defiantly, he stood before Taylor. Chocolate irises studied her carefully, only half listening to the snippets of the night that was left to him. The paint could wait, the dinner could wait, but what mattered was the fact that there seemed to be a little less life in the woman he had grown to respect and admire over the passing months.

Not a single word passed her lips that he believed. There wasn’t a reason he could believe that the brunette before him would lie, except one. Slowly, Nixon leaned over and brushed the pile of papers back into the file before rising back to his full height. “Tay”, the wolf sighed, voice no more than a whisper, as the folder dropped to the table with a thud that couldn’t compare to the one she had left behind with her purse. “You’re keys aren’t over here”, he spoke, attempting once more to close the distance that she had forced them into once more. “You’re starving, aren’t you?”, the question fell, but he was all too aware that another lie may fall from her plump lips. Nix didn’t need to hear the truth, he could see it and he could feel it. “Let me help”, maybe it was a reckless offer, but it was the only one he had. Nixon was not going to turn Taylor away to the cold to fend for whatever blood she could find or had stashed away. This young vampire had been more of a friend to him than anyone had been in his entire life. The least he could do to show that there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to protect her in any way she needed was to offer a warm vein. “Where is the best for you?”, Nix asked, nimble fingers already working the buttons of his flannel, exposing more of his skin and more of his veins.

Truly, she’d never been all too great at hiding things, and certainly not from anyone who might have stood a hand in helping her beyond that. It was deafening, which seemed ironic considering apart from the few beating hearts and the low hum of the TV still playing the movie Charlie had wanted to watch; there was nothing else. Yet white noise clouded her mind, thought and churning sounds that no living person should have ever been able to sense so easily. It messed with her far more than she let on, a creature of unfathomable strength, now a woman seemingly afraid of the snapping twigs underfoot a stranger across the street. “That’s okay.. I must’ve..--- maybe it’s in my coat pocket.” Did she even wear a coat? It didn’t matter, as she stepped back in what she might have hoped would be a near indiscernible movement, yet she’d misjudged and seemingly backed herself into a corner, almost literally. He’d pinned her for what it was, and something about it unfurled in her chest like a live wire. She should have had this worked out by now; eight long months and the simple art of her own forgetfulness still hadn’t seemed to offer her any leeway. “I’m..-- it’s fine, honestly.” She case hues downward, a lowly laugh that held little element of humor bit down gently and she tucked dark tresses in behind her ear. “There’s still some blood bags at home.” How anyone could so surely forget such a thing -- that living now comprised itself of choking back blood bags; choking because even though the succulent taste of crimson was beyond anything she’d ever known, her mind still reeled knowing that what she was drinking was blood. More to the point, that she’d had little other choice if she didn’t want to attack any single one person she came across on a daily basis, it seemed foolish to let such thought simply slip her mind on the way out of the house this day. The sound of a button slipping through fabric and piercing azure orbs snapped up to meet the sight of Nixon’s bare chest. “Nixon, no.” She’d state, adamantly. “That’s not..-- you don’t have to do that. It’s really not necessary.” Her dry throat constricted and she was sure there was some sense of a visible wince to it as she looked between him and the glowering doorway that led to Charlie. “Really.. it’s not a good idea, if I...-- I don’t know if I’ll stop.”

[sixmonthsandgone]

Gina Rodriguez and DeWanda Wise being cute as hell in Someone Great

[tcylrevcns]

@lennyxdauphine

[jlowndesdaily]

jessicalowndes: TAG someone who loves coffee 🙋🏻💗☕️

[jlowndesdaily]

jessicalowndes: Sunkissed ☀️☀️☀️

[tcylrevcns]

waylon-hughes‌:

Waylon couldn’t recall the last time he’d held Taylor so closely, but the sensation filled his entire body with warmth. And despite the revelations of Taylor’s nature, she didn’t feel any different, no colder to the touch, and instead of pulling away her hands curled in his shirt, her tears dampening the fabric. And oddly, it made Way feel stronger, that he could stand in this place and hold his ex-wife and provide her comfort he never had before. And internally he shamed himself for realizing only now just how easy it was to give Taylor everything she’d deserved from him.

As his arms held her firmly he shook his head at her reasoning, whether it be at their marital collapse or her affliction, the woman never had reason to apologize or take responsibility for anything that had happened. “Taylor, please.” His arms would drop, releasing her momentarily. “You’ve never made a single mistake in your life.” He’d promise, thumbs moving to whisk away the tears that marred her flush yet perfect face.

And perhaps it was a stupid though, but there was only one action Waylon could think to take in order to prove to Taylor that he loved her, and that he would stay here with her. “Hold on.” He’d step aside, shifting towards the knife block and grabbing one of the sharpened knives he’d watched her use a million times to make a meal. And with an artful flick he’d slice across his wrist, letting the crimson blood pool and trickle down his arm. His arm would then outstretch towards the other woman, his own head nodding slowly as his lips winced. “Go on. Do it.”

perhaps there should have been more comfort to the unsteady thrumb of his heartbeat; eliciting both comfort as the sound wrapped itself almost excurciatingly so around every semblance of self control she had; eight months left her with all too little as she felt the familiar prickle of fangs against the plump of her lesser lip. The same would curl and purse lightly, hidden by dark tresses that toppled forward. Taylor unable to just yet pry herself from his embrace, her own inundated crown of thorns rested neatly against his chest. Impossible, it seemed, to bite back the bitterness that clung to the fleeting topple of laughter. Short and sweet, yet unholy and filled to the brim with lies she’d rather not tell. The swell of humor didn’t rise to her throat to pull taught a smile that made her cheeks hurt and burnt like sunlight, it lay flaccid and shattered. “Then I’m just severely unlucky.” A dire contemplation of how her life could end up so utterly messed up. Lacking every moment in time that had granted her peace and happiness once, now wrought with the passing dalliance of what might have been. The release of his hold gave thanks to her own growing hunger, the near sickly sweet scent that pressed it’s way beneath his skin, through the thousands of minuscule veins, enough to lay pause to her own encumbrance of grief. He’d come here for his own, and hers held no place while he was suffering before her. “I’m sorry I..-- You were upset when you got here and I just..--” Mutterings of a woman clambering for something solid to grasp as she laughed softly as he wiped away her tears. The sheepish almost embarrassed state of Taylor as far left field as she’d ever been. 

Found in the most unholy moment as the thick and heavy scent of crimson perforated the air within heir once home. Stepping back and into the counter behind, Taylor’s grasp against the counter top cracked the marble beneath her hand as it hit like a tidal wave. White hot and desperate, such self control didn’t exist in the likes of a women left along to her own vices by everyone beyond her own blood. The shimmer of azure hues, a stark contrast to the pulsating veins beneath her own porcelain skin, shifting as irises zeroes in, the curve of her palm reaching to clasp tightly over her nose and mouth as panic set in over how foolish he could be. “Waylon…-- what’re you..” Irresponsible. Reckless. Thoughtless. A thousand words to describe such careless notion, the woman neither old enough nor experienced enough to taper down her own instincts. Less than a moments pass, Taylor held him fixed against the opposing wall; soft features replaced by one of monstrosity; every once soft and supple feature hardened and contorted into something shy of stunningly beautiful. Harrowing, that something that once held such promise, a sleek perfection that neither saw nor knew horrors, now emanated them almost entirely. Fangs sunk mercilessly into the flesh of his throat, gone the wayward offer of his wrist as a near bone crushing pressure forced him still.

[tcylrevcns]

radical-rory‌:

He felt his heart sink when Taylor came into view.  Their relationship (if it could even be called such a thing) had ended as abruptly as it had began.  A freak accident that scared Rory more than he would like to admit, he realized that keeping his distance might be the only thing keeping her alive. To add further insult to injury, Rory had completely cut contact with her after the split.  It was for the best, he had convinced himself.  She needed someone who did not make her throat close up when he got too close.  She had needed someone normal.  Someone human. 

But this was not the same woman he had ghosted eight months ago. She hardly looked any different, perhaps a slightly paler complexion from avoiding the sun, but hardly smelled the same.  He suddenly felt angry, like he knew that whatever turned her had done it against Taylor’s will.  If her allergy did not kill her, someone else surely would. 

“Full moon,” Rory stated, like it was obvious.  She had always known what he was, even if she had never come face to face with the beast he was about to become.  “What the hell happened?” He asked, blunt and straight to the point.  Rory was especially impatient tonight, knowing he would not be able to speak for much longer.  His skin on his left forearm began to darken, ruddy fur beginning to sprout.  “So how does this this work? You allergic to yourself now?” He forced a smile as he clamped his other hand over the growth. 

Too many regrets, too many unspoken thoughts laid to waste at the expanse laid out between one of those more recent; a failure of her own that imprinted a trial and error loss she’d come to grieve for even if, perhaps, it wasn’t worth as much to anyone else. What she’d owed Rory had cost a fleeting moment of something beyond the lack luster events of her life that’d crept up on her. She’d certainly never blamed him for never contacting her again; severing ties to a woman who so simply seemed to violently convulse at the touch. It pressed a longing ache to the thick of her throat, in the shape of thousands of words unspoken and a whole lot more that prevailed words entirely. “Oh.” Little more than passing thought as she looked up beyond the canopy above, the scintillated flicker of moonlight barely shining through, an unruly ache blossoming for him as he did little more than wait. It was later than she thought. 

Crystalline orbs pierced like a knife, the impossibility that this would be the moment she came face to face with a werewolf mid shift weighed heavy in the face of it being Rory; of all those within the town borders. The fates surely found humor in her own sense of timing. No stranger to the pulsating warmth she’d once remembered permeating from him, he’d never shied away from what he was and it was perhaps such honesty that’d drawn her in the first place, among other things. Eyeing him almost curiously; an uncertain brand of it as she hesitated in moving forwards across the dry thicket beneath their feet. “You’re going go have to be a little more specific.” A lot had happened --- then, now. Everything in between; Taylor only now pinpointing the moments of suffocating in which Rory might have been yet another passing saving grace. Time lost and destroyed; all that remained. “You mean...-- last time I saw you? Or since then?” The small grimace might have barely passed as a lackluster smile. 

The jarring reality of what’d happened brought to the surface easily with his questioning, Taylor almost sheepish in her attempt to avoid his gaze, not entirely unaware of his transition pushing along; the sickly sound of fur sprouting much too loud in her ears. “I uh..-- well I died so.” Almost hyper focused on the ground below, teeth drew across her lesser lip with the same uncertainty she’d approached everything with now; a glimmering light missing from the woman who’d once emanated the sun itself. “I’m not..-- No blood or life for the curse to cling to I guess. When I was..” drained, killed and buried, she could cringe at the unholy reminder, “Some sort of loophole maybe, a curse can’t really exist if you’re not you anymore.” She chewed the inside of her cheek; finding a level of discomfort talking about it so freely, the woman instead choosing to flip the switch, “---- are you.. there’s nothing I can do to help make this easier for you, is there?”

[jlowndesdaily]

jessicalowndes: Snow daze ☃️❄️📷 @tylerstanaland #35mm

[jlowndesdaily]

Jessica Lowndes photographed by Jones Crow, 2017.

[thebroken--soul]

[tcylrevcns]

waylon-hughes‌:

Waylon’s biggest pitfall in the past could have been that he never knew how to react when Taylor cried. He knew it was always his fault - but he couldn’t bring himself to fold his arms around her, to hold her close and promise her everything would be alright. In many ways he knew he wouldn’t change, not then. And even for a few seconds he hesitated to reach out for her, wondering if she wanted him to reach out and touch her. How many times had he watched her cry? Felt her body shift in the bed at night? How many times had he pretended that everything was fine, believed her the first time when she assured him?

“Taylor…” He’s holding her against his form before he even recognizes the action, cradling her body against his chest as if his very life depended on it. Fingers would curl in her hand, gently pulling back stray locks from her ear. “I will never leave you alone again.” He vows in a comforting whisper. “I’m sorry I let you down. This is my fault…”

Lips press to brunette hair, smoothing it back with one hand while the other held to the small of her back. “I love you. I love you however you are. I promise.”

It felt selfish, to break so surely beneath the weight of something she’d kept from him, even now it felt wrong. Even with years between a severed marriage that had only become as such because she simply couldn’t live with the distance that’d formed without him even realizing it, but such harrowing circumstance had created a monster within a woman much too soft to carry it for so long on her own. The swell of compassion now far outweighed by hunger when it struck her and there wasn’t a single thing that could have felt further than natural, despite it being little more than instinctual now. She can’t look at him, can’t find a way to lift azure hues from the blurred lines of the floor and the sound of her name slipped through her lips just the same way she’d heard a thousand times before, but something with it shattered inside her chest.  Something about saying it out loud makes it real, makes it permanent as if there wasn’t some way to turn back the last eight months --- the last five years, just so she can piece something back together again; but it wasn’t that easy. His warmth burns, white hot through her robe against icy flesh and her fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as she breathes in the very essence of him. It should have felt different, his soothing touch encompassing her like a safety net she’d been without for years. The erratic beat of his heart within the hollow of his throat, however, soon became enough to bring her back down to earth. To being here because he’d showed up drunk, on the night of the anniversary of their divorce, and the pain that encouraged such wasn’t something she wanted to simply brush off. “It’s not your fault.. None of this is your fault, Way.” She’d mutter quietly as she pulled away, nimble fingertips wiping deftly at her own cheeks. “I made a mistake, I made..-- a lot of mistakes.” Which of those she was laying claim to, leaving him ..-- walking home alone, she wasn’t certain.

[thegoodlifeessentials]

[thebroken--soul]

[tcylrevcns]

nixwilde‌:

He still was unsure how his life had come to this moment. As tired irises settled on the heavy wooden door that kept him from entering his sisters home, or the house that was now meant to be his home. Part of him wondered if this was all some elaborate dream he would wake up from, that his sister would still be there to raise the beautiful daughter she had brought into this world. Unfortunately, Nixon was all too aware that this was the reality he needed to face. Sasha was dead, he was Charlotte’s guardian, and he was no longer free to roam wherever the wild spirit in his soul desired to lead him. Maybe he had been standing there a minute longer than he intended, but there was something in the fresh night air that was revitalizing. It gave him that strength he needed to push through the door and face his reality. 

The house was dark but he was immediately met with the overwhelming smell of honeysuckle, the natural and innocent smell of Charlotte immediately comforting the rather tense young man. Secondly, the smell of something far more mature and evolved washed over him and Nixon let out a quiet sigh. The truth was, Taylor had been a godsend the last few months when he needed the most help. Nix was out of his league and often times felt as if his world would collapse on him at any second. It was Taylor that offered a lifeline, it was the vampire that made life easier. Immediately, Nixon moved over to the couch, orbs trailing over his slumbering niece. She seemed peaceful, like there wasn’t a single thing in the world plaguing her. “She does”, he agreed with a quiet chuckle, only moving to draw the throw blanket over Charlotte’s shoulders. Nixon’s attention turned to the vampire across the way, curiosity etching onto his features. “You okay?”, he questioned carefully, crossing the threshold into the kitchen. “You look like you’re going to be sick?”

Perhaps it should have been more comforting to know he was there now, but somehow despite the obvious lengths Nixon might go to keep his niece out of harms way, it truly only made her all the more unsteady on her feet. Taylor had been raised here, born with the premise of the supernatural world etched into her mind, and she’d become aware that an unstable vampire, even one so young, was a dangerous thing. Ravenous, one terribly fated moment could have her carving a blood bath in her wake, torn limbs and shattered skulls left behind. “There’s..--” Hues closed tightly, the likely sight of someone struggling with little more than a headache, “she got paint on her clothes earlier, they’re soaking in the laundry and..” Thumb and forefinger reached to pinch tightly at the bridge of her nose, “if you’re hungry, there’s a plate for you in the fridge. It just need reheating.” 

Heartbeats, one after the other -- the near delicate patter of one much smaller than the other sounded heavy in the air, Taylor internally cursing herself for being so careless. The remnants of her folder forgotten on the floor, she moved to reach for her bag, digging through her things in search of her keys. “Me?” She glanced up with a trialing offer of a smile, “I’m okay, I think I’ve just been looking at the same thing for too long, it’s throwing me a little.” Not her greatest excuse, the brunette moving to place some distance between them as he met her in the kitchen, nimble fingers tucking darkened locks out of the way as she continued to search her own bag. “It’s just been a long day..” Tight lipped smile curled without the usual ounce of sunlight that could so surely emanate her in the past. Frustration bubbled, not nearly as bright as the hunger, the thud as her bag hit the table almost unnecessary, “I can’t..-- are my keys over there?”

[tcylrevcns]

lennyxdauphine‌:

“He’s not the crazy mayor. Tate can handle himself, he’s a grown ass man.” Not to mention that his list of enemies happened to potentially be shorter than that of an elected politician. “Oh, you thought this was a voluntary thing?” She questioned, brows rising before the witch linked her arm through Taylor’s in a way that suggested otherwise. “No way. You’re staying out with me tonight. We’re going to relive New Years at this party even if it kills us.” Then, with a rueful smile, “Or me. Probably me.”

“Handle himself? Is that what you call what he does?” The explosive nature of their friend not something that anyone could truly forget about. If anything, Taylor wasn’t entirely certain a night like this wouldn’t end with either an all in brawl or the man himself being carted off in cuffs for some brand of assault. “I mean I was hoping, but apparently I knew better than to believe that it was.” The soft smile that graced her features as her best friend entwined their arms enough to push beyond her own unsettled nature. “New Years?” She cringed a little, “You sure you want to relive that? You were hungover for at least a week after that.”

[tcylrevcns]

@nixwilde​

Little more than a few hours, that was all it was. The contents of her latest project spread out across Nixon’s kitchen counter as she watched, from a distance, as Charlee slept peacefully, curled up on the sofa. Little more than a few hours where she couldn’t find reason to not trust herself to do as she’d always done whenever Nixon had needed an extra helping hand with the little girl. It’d warmed her, children always had --- perhaps it bloomed from the knowledge that she could never have allowed herself to have one of her own, even before she’d been turned. It hadn’t been out of fear of being a bad parent; Taylor believed beyond wealth of doubt that she and Waylon would have been amazing parents; it was everything that came with such a thing for those within her own bloodline. Now? Now, the knowledge that she could barely hold herself together around most people should have kept her at arms length. Months of helping out had her being prepared --- always prepared, but today she’d been in too much of a rush to even think about it. Her mind already swimming with too much to take in.  The sound of a car pulling into the drive settled a sigh of relief within the burning fire of pressing hunger, a rattled response of documents and sketches spilling across the floor as she’d moved to gather everything in a rush. The sharp click of the front door coming moments after the familiar scent slipped beneath the door itself. “She’s sleeping,” She spoke quietly enough not to cause so much noise she might wake the little girl, “I didn’t want to wake her, so..” Wake her --- or worse. Taylor having barely moved from her place in the kitchen for hours after Charlee had fallen asleep. “I just..-- she looked so cute there.”