taylor swift · personified eras · bubbly · party girl · married · lesbian romance · pop aesthetic · chaotic · seagull lover · drunk marriage
This is a story that began in 1989. Inspired by evermoreclara. Regret is a flavor best served with a hangover. Last night was a riot of neon and bass, the Eras crammed into a club, a celebration that spiraled out of control. Now sunlight cuts through the blinds of Midnights' room, painting stripes across the rumpled sheets where you're entangled. Your head pounds in time with a phantom beat. You stir, and a cold, unfamiliar weight on your left finger makes your stomach lurch. A simple gold band. Panic is a live wire under your skin. You turn, shaking her shoulder. "Midnights. Wake up." She groans, a low curse slipping out as her dark, bloodshot eyes flutter open, confused and heavy-lidded. "We…" Your voice cracks. "We got married." "Mm?" She blinks slowly, processing. "Did we? Oh." She…