isn't it? [taylor swift]

chapter 64

The headlines were everywhere, almost impossible to ignore and spreading faster than anyone could sweep them away.

The critics called it transcendent. The fans called it a masterpiece. 

Leia stood in the kitchen, her coffee going cold as she scrolled through yet another review. The morning sunlight spilled across the marble countertop, catching on the rim of her mug while Taylor leaned against the refrigerator, iced chai in hand and watching her with a mixture of pride and amusement.

"'A masterclass in vulnerability without exploitation,'" Leia read aloud, her voice caught between disbelief and quiet satisfaction. "'Hudson has crafted what will surely be remembered as one of the defining albums of the decade. It would be nothing short of shocking if this isn't crowned album of the year at the 2023 Grammy Awards.'"

Taylor crossed the kitchen and wrapped her arms around Leia from behind, resting her chin on her shoulder while putting her chai down on the counter top next to them both.

"They're not wrong," she murmured, pressing a kiss to the curve of Leia's neck. "Though I'm starting to think I should be worried."

Leia turned in her arms, eyebrows raised as . "Worried? About what?"

"Well," Taylor said with mock seriousness, "I'm just lucky I pushed my album date to October. At least we won't be competing in the same Grammy eligibility year... I'd hate to lose to you."

Leia laughed, the sound bright and unguarded. 

"Right. Because thirteen-time Grammy winner Taylor Swift is terrified of little old me."

"Not quite - twenty-one nominations, eleven wins," Taylor corrected with a playful smirk, Leia rolling her eyes playfully at the reminder. "And yes, terrified. Have you heard your bridge on track four? It's criminal."

"You're ridiculous," Leia said, but she was smiling as she leaned in to kiss Taylor softly.

The moment was interrupted by Tate padding into the kitchen, his nails clicking against the hardwood as he circled their legs once before flopping dramatically at their feet with a sigh.

"Someone's feeling neglected," Taylor observed, reaching down to scratch behind his ears.

Leia's phone chimed with a notification, and her expression shifted as she glanced at the screen. "Speaking of feeling neglected," she muttered, holding up the phone so Taylor could see.

It was a clip from Joe's latest interview, promoting his new series. The interviewer, a woman with a sleek bob and too-bright smile, was leaning forward with practiced interest.

"And of course, everyone wants to know about your relationship with Taylor Swift," she was saying. "You two have been together for quite some time now. Any truth to the rumors of an engagement?"

Joe's expression barely flickered, that same careful neutrality he'd perfected over the years. 

"I think my private life is private," he said smoothly. "That's not something I care to discuss."

The interviewer nodded like she'd expected this, but pressed on. 

"Sources say you've moved into her Tribeca apartment. Is domestic life treating you well?"

Joe's smile tightened at the corners. "Again, I think I'll keep those details to myself."

Leia scoffed and closed the video, tossing her phone onto the counter with more force than necessary. 

"Unbelievable. He gets to play coy while simultaneously feeding into the narrative. 'I'll keep those details to myself' is basically confirmation without saying anything."