ATTRACTIVE

Six Years AgoNovember 5th; 2018Taylor Swift's Point of ViewTension hangs heavy in the air as Joe, and I stand facing each other in the dimly lit apartment. The familiar surroundings of my California home offer little solace as the weight of our unresolved issues bears down on us.

Words fly like arrows, sharp and cutting, as we hurl accusations and grievances at each other with reckless abandon. The tension that has been simmering beneath the surface finally boils over, erupting into a full-blown fight.

In the midst of the chaos, emotions run high, fueled by frustration and hurt. Every word spoken is like a dagger to the heart, tearing at the fragile threads that bind us together.

"That's your excuse for not going?" I question, feeling a surge of frustration bubbling inside me.

"I thought we wanted to keep this relationship private!" He makes a lame excuse that enrages me, and I can feel my blood boiling.

"I wanted to keep it private, but that doesn't mean we just stay in all day! I want to actually go out with you. Are you embarrassed of me?" The words tumble out of my mouth, a mix of hurt and indignation swirling within me.

"I'm not embarrassed of you! I just don't like being the center of attention. Your fans always ask if I can fight for some reason." His explanation falls flat, and I can't help but feel a pang of disappointment. He's an actor; attention is part of his job.

"Can you fucking fight? You really don't seem to give two shits about our relationship." I start to wail, my emotions getting the better of me. I want him to care so badly, and he doesn't seem to understand.

"What do you want from me? To change my personality?" He asks, his tone edged with passive aggression, and I feel a surge of frustration.

"I want you to be in a relationship, which means not hiding in all day. I want you to come to my own party at the end of the month!" I explain, my voice rising as I pace the room, the weight of my expectations heavy on my shoulders.

"It doesn't feel safe!" He explains, and I can't help but roll my eyes. 

"Why not?!" I ask, the irritation evident in my tone. I know the answer before he even speaks.

"You're Taylor Swift! That's why!" He answers, and it's like a broken record. I'm tired of hearing the same excuse.

"Oh my god, you're in a relationship with me. You signed up for this!" I try to reason with him, but it feels like talking to a brick wall. We've been together for two years; he should understand by now.

"Maybe have some respect for me when I'm freaking out about it!" He yells back, and I feel a flicker of guilt, wondering if I've been too harsh.

"Fuck this. I'm going out and clearly not with you." I snap, unable to contain my frustration any longer, and I storm away, feeling a mix of anger and hurt pulsing through me.

"Fine, go have fun." He angrily snarls, and I can't help but feel a pang of regret as I leave, wondering where things went wrong.

With a sense of determination, I swiftly change into something stylish and apply my makeup with practiced precision. As I glance at myself in the mirror, a wave of confidence washes over me, a silent reminder that I am capable of facing the world on my own terms.

Ignoring the lingering tension in the apartment, I grab my purse and head out the door, the cool night air a welcome reprieve from the stifling atmosphere inside. The allure of an upscale club in downtown beckons to me, promising a night of excitement and distraction.

As I make my way through the bustling streets of the city, my thoughts drift to Blake, a friend who have always been there for me, even in the darkest of times. Their invitation to join them tonight offers a glimmer of hope amidst the turmoil of my relationship with Joe.

Despite knowing that Joe would never want to accompany me, I push aside the feeling of disappointment and focus on the promise of a fun-filled evening ahead.

As I stride into the Queensberry nightclub, the vibrant lights dance off the sequins adorning my high-rise jeans, each shimmering in the dimly lit atmosphere. The bejeweled butterfly cutout catches the occasional glint, adding an air of whimsy to the ensemble. Paired with a sleek black morgot top that accentuates the curve of my waist, and glossy slingback heels that elongate my legs, I feel a surge of confidence with every step.

In my grasp, I carry a small 1969 moon-top handle bag, a chic accessory that adds a touch of retro glamour to the modern ensemble. As I spot Blake amidst the crowd, a smile spreads across my lips, and I rush forward to envelop her in a warm hug.

"I didn't think you'd come! Where's Joe?" Blake's voice is tinged with excitement, her eyes searching mine for answers. Our recent absence from public events hasn't gone unnoticed, and she's clearly eager for some company.

"We had a stupid fight, so I decided to drink my worries away," I confess with a shrug, my gaze momentarily flickering towards the bar where an array of colorful cocktails beckons.

"So, you're going to get wasted to not think about your relationship?" Blake's question carries a hint of judgment, her concern for me evident in her tone.

I pause, a moment of introspection passing over me as I consider her words. "Yep," I reply with a wry smile, a touch of defiance in my voice.

She sighs, her hand coming to rest gently on my shoulder. "Just be careful. I'm not your babysitter."

"Got it!" I offer a playful salute before darting off towards the bar, the anticipation of the night ahead coursing through my veins. Joining the queue, I eagerly await my turn, the rhythmic pulse of the music setting the tempo for the evening.

As the bartender slides a freshly made mojito across the counter, I waste no time in taking a generous sip, relishing the cool, minty freshness that washes over me. One drink quickly turns into several, the cares of the world fading into the background with each passing sip. Before long, the number of empty glasses before me far outweighs my ability to keep count, and the telltale signs of intoxication begin to make themselves known.

As I lose myself in the infectious rhythm of the dance floor, surrounded by the pulsating lights and the laughter of friends, my only intention is to let go of all inhibitions and revel in the freedom of the night. The music courses through me, guiding my movements as I sway and spin with abandon, my senses heightened by the intoxicating atmosphere of the club.

But just as I start to lose myself in the music, a sudden shift in the crowd catches my attention. Through the haze of lights and bodies, I see him approaching, his presence commanding and undeniable. Tall and imposing, his muscular frame exudes confidence, drawing me in like a moth to a flame.

His chiseled jawline speaks of strength and determination, framed by the subtle shadow of a well-maintained scruff. Dressed in impeccably fashionable attire, he exudes an aura of effortless charm that leaves me breathless. And when his charismatic smile lights up his face, I find myself unable to look away.

In that moment, time seems to stand still as our eyes meet across the crowded room, an electric current pulsing between us. Despite my initial plans to dance and drink the night away, I feel a magnetic pull towards this enigmatic stranger, a sense of anticipation coursing through my veins.

As he closes the distance between us, his hand extended in a silent invitation, I feel a rush of anticipation fluttering in my chest. Surrendering to the intoxicating allure of the moment, I allow him to take my hand, his touch sending a thrill racing through me as he lightly presses his lips against my skin in a gesture that sets my heart ablaze.

"Enchanté," he murmurs, his voice smooth and velvety, sending a shiver down my spine as I struggle to contain the blush creeping across my cheeks. Despite my efforts to appear composed, his presence leaves me feeling breathless and unsteady, a potent combination of desire and excitement swirling within me.

As he releases my hand, I find myself grinning uncontrollably, the warmth of his touch lingering on my skin like a whispered promise of things to come. He's something I've been craving, a tantalizing mystery begging to be unraveled.

"Would you like to dance?" he asks, his gaze steady and inviting as he holds out his hand once more.

A surge of anticipation courses through me as I meet his gaze, my heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness and desire. "Yeah, sure," I reply, trying to play it cool despite the torrent of emotions swirling inside me. But deep down, he has no idea just how much I want him, how badly I've been yearning for this connection.

As I sway to the rhythm of the music, enveloped in the electric energy of the nightclub, a surge of adrenaline courses through me as I catch the eye of the captivating stranger across the crowded dance floor. Despite the steady beat of the music and the laughter of the crowd, all I can focus on is the magnetic pull drawing me towards him.

But as our bodies move in sync, a twinge of guilt pricks at the edges of my consciousness, a reminder of Joe waiting for me at home, unaware of what's happening. Despite my best efforts to bury the feeling, it lingers, casting a shadow over the intoxicating allure of the moment.

With each step we take together, the distance between right and wrong blurs, the thrill of the forbidden mingling with the heady rush of desire. His touch ignites a fire within me, consuming my doubts and fears as I allow myself to be swept away by the intensity of the moment.

My heart skips a beat as he pulls me close, his warm breath grazing my ear as he whispers, "The lady's room." In that moment, a rush of heat floods my body, and I find myself caught between the thrill of his suggestion and the rational voice urging caution.

Despite the hesitation, the word "okay" escapes my lips before I can fully process the consequences. It's as if my body is responding to his magnetic presence, drawn to the excitement and anticipation of the unknown.

In a swift motion, he pulls me into the empty lady's restroom, our eyes quickly scanning for any signs of intrusion. Satisfied that we're alone, he strides purposefully to the door, his movements deliberate as he turns the lock with a quiet click. The sound reverberates through the small space, sending a rush of excitement coursing through my veins, heightening the intensity of the moment.

In the dimly lit room, his presence commands attention as he strides over to me with deliberate steps, his gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. With each deliberate movement, the anticipation in the air becomes palpable, electrifying the space between us.

As he reaches me, his hand gently but firmly presses against the wall, effectively trapping me in his embrace. I feel the cool surface behind me contrasting with the warmth radiating from his body, creating a sensory overload that heightens every sensation.

In a tender ballet of desire, his lips begin their journey from the sensitive skin of my neck, each kiss a soft caress that stirs a hunger deep within me. With deliberate slowness, he maps out a trail of warmth along the curve of my throat, igniting a cascade of sensations that leave me yearning for more.

As his lips draw nearer to mine, I can feel the electric anticipation crackling in the air, charging the space between us with an irresistible energy. With each lingering kiss, he builds the intensity, coaxing me closer to the edge of ecstasy.

And then, just as I'm consumed by the sweet ache of longing, he finds my lips, a gentle pressure that sets my senses ablaze. In that fleeting moment, time stands still as we become lost in the heat of shared desire.

As his hands glide down the curve of my waist, a shiver of anticipation races through me, every touch igniting a fire that threatens to consume us both. With a gentle yet firm touch, he lifts the hem of my shirt, his fingers tracing a path along my skin as he peels the fabric away, leaving me exposed to the heat of his gaze.

With a determined yet gentle tug, I pull his jacket down, feeling the fabric slide smoothly over his shoulders and arms until it finally succumbs, slipping from his grasp to pool gracefully at his feet. The sound of the fabric meeting the floor echoes softly in the room. With each layer shed, the barrier separating us diminishes, leaving us exposed and vulnerable, yet exhilarated by the prospect of what lies ahead.

In the dimly lit room, shadows played across the walls, casting an aura of secrecy over our clandestine rendezvous. As our eyes met, a knowing smirk passed between us, a silent acknowledgment of the forbidden desire that burned within.

Feeling his hands encircle my waist, pulling me closer, I couldn't suppress the rush of exhilaration that surged through me. With a daring grin, he effortlessly lifted me, and instinctively, I wrapped my legs around him, surrendering to his embrace.

But in that electrifying moment, amidst the whirlwind of passion, a sudden wave of realization crashed over me like a tidal wave. I was cheating on Joe. The weight of my betrayal hit me with an unexpected force, threatening to drown me in a sea of guilt and remorse.

Yet, paradoxically, amidst the turmoil, there was a twisted sense of comfort in feeling wanted, in being desired so fiercely. It was a dangerous allure, pulling me deeper into the abyss of infidelity with each beat of my heart.

As our bodies pressed together, the lines between right and wrong blurred, and I found myself teetering on the edge of morality, grappling with the consequences of infidelity. But I abandoned all concerns and decided it was worth it.

He digs into me and I let out a downright sinful moan. His rhythmic thrusts building up the sweet feeling of ecstasy. The marks on his collarbone and soft curls forming at the end of my hair. I could taste the alcohol drenched on him.

I bite harshly on my lip, trying to contain the pleasure that wants to verbally escape me but as he goes deeper I can feel my climaxing rising. As a surge of endorphins floods my senses, every nerve in my body tingles with an electrifying sensation. It's as if a thousand tiny sparks are igniting within me, scattering through my veins like wildfire. In that moment of overwhelming pleasure, I reach out, seeking something, anything, to anchor me in the whirlwind of sensation.

My fingers spread across the cool surface of the walls, desperately searching for stability, for a lifeline amidst the tumultuous storm of ecstasy. But they find no purchase, no solace in the unyielding solidity of the world around me. All I'm left with is an orgasm I can't escape from and no way to quiet my pleasures.

As the sinful moan escapes my lips, a mischievous glint dances in the eyes of the mystery man, his lips curling into a knowing grin. Without hesitation, he closes the distance between us, his kiss fierce and unyielding, a collision of desire and passion. His lips meet mine with a hunger that borders on desperation

With each tantalizing kiss, the world around us fades into oblivion, and I am lost in the sensation of his touch, the taste of his lips, the heat of his breath against my skin. It's a whirlwind of emotions, a symphony of desire that crescendos with each passing second.

As his climax approaches, a sudden chill runs down my spine, a stark realization cutting through the haze of passion: we weren't using protection. But it was too late too do anything because he came before I could stop him.

As he carefully lowers me to the ground, a wave of sensations washes over me, our breaths slowly aligning in the quiet aftermath. "Sorry about that," he breathes out, his voice filled with a mix of sincerity and raw emotion.

"No worries," I respond, a soft chuckle escaping my lips as I begin to tidy myself up, the intimacy of the moment still lingering in the air. With each movement, I feel a sense of both closeness and distance between us.

My gaze lingers on him as he slips into his jacket, the fabric settling around him with a sense of familiarity. I watch, captivated by the way he moves, every gesture etched with a quiet grace and confidence.

With a smirk on his lips, he turns to me, his gaze locking onto mine with a mixture of admiration and amusement. "Taylor Swift, you're one hell of a lay," he declares, his words hanging in the air like a playful challenge. Then I never saw him again.

•                          •                            •

I wake up the next morning, the harsh light filtering through Blake's curtains, slicing through the haze of my hangover. Glancing at the clock, I realize with a sinking feeling that it's well past noon, and I'm paying the price for last night's indulgence.

Attempting to piece together the fragmented memories of the previous evening, I find my mind shrouded in a dense fog. It's like trying to navigate through a maze with no map; everything is hazy and disjointed.

As the door creaks open, Blake's familiar face appears, a mix of concern and relief evident in her expression. "She's awake!" she announces, stepping into the room and taking a seat beside me. "How are you feeling this morning?"

I emit a low groan, reaching for the glass of water thoughtfully placed on the nightstand. "Everything hurts," I manage to mutter between sips, the cool liquid offering a brief respite from the pounding headache and dry mouth.

Blake's gaze softens with sympathy as she watches me struggle. "Do you remember anything from last night?" she inquires gently.

I shake my head slowly, the memories elusive and slippery. "Just flashes," I admit with a sigh. "Alcohol, some questionable dancing, and this persistent guy who wouldn't take a hint."

A furrow forms between Blake's brows as she processes my words. "I never saw you with anyone else," she remarks, her tone puzzled.

A sudden rush of realization floods through me, mingling with a potent cocktail of guilt and shame. "I never got his name," I confess, the pieces of the puzzle slotting together with painful clarity. "We danced, and then... Oh my god." The memory, though blurry, sends a shiver down my spine as I grapple with the implications.

The realization hits me like a ton of bricks, and I can't bring myself to meet Blake's gaze. Shame washes over me in waves as I come to terms with what I've done. I cheated on my boyfriend, and there's no way to undo it.

Blake's expression shifts from concern to shock, her features contorting with disbelief. "What is it?" she presses, her voice laced with apprehension.

"I... I cheated," I finally admit, the words barely audible as they escape my lips. "I had sex with him."  The guilt weighs heavily on my conscience, and I can't bear to face the consequences of my actions.

The weight of the silence between Blake and me is suffocating, each passing moment feeling heavier than the last. Neither of us knows what to say, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

Suddenly, the shrill ring of my phone pierces through the silence, jolting me back to reality. I snatch it up, the sound echoing painfully in my ears and exacerbating the pounding headache I'm already battling.

"Hello?" I answer tentatively, my voice strained with emotion.

"Hey, Blake told me you crashed at her place," Joe's voice comes through the line, his tone a mix of concern and uncertainty.

"Uh, yeah," I respond, struggling to find the right words. "I drank a little too much."

There's a brief pause on the other end of the line before Joe speaks again, his voice laced with a raw vulnerability that cuts through me like a knife. "Can you come home? I want to work this out. I'm sorry."

The lump in my throat grows larger as I grapple with the weight of his words. "I'm sorry too," I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll be there soon."

As I hang up the phone, tears threaten to spill over, my heart heavy with the weight of my mistakes. Did I just lose the love of my life?

—————Author's Note:

Smut first chapter lol

Nothing more awkward than writing this in an inpatient psychiatric hospital.