Work Text:
REMEMBER TO LET HER INTO YOUR HEART
The thing about domesticity is: you never completely understand what’s happening until it happens.
Ryan lived sixteen years in a house full of anger and hate, never got to see how peaceful it was just to stand in the kitchen drinking coffee and talking about your plans for the day until the Cohen’s adopted him. He knew about being quiet and running to school, spending the day away and getting home to loud noises and screaming. He knew about being smart and not getting serious with a girl, because you couldn’t afford it. There are many things he knew that could never be described as domesticity.
So, when Ryan and Taylor finally moved to their own house in San Francisco, he actually got surprised about how easy it was to create that feeling. How easy it creeped into their lives without questioning if it would fit there. How easy it was just to walk into the house and navigate it with the lights off, how peaceful it was just to recognize the house as yours.
He would wake up next to her with sun creeping through the curtains and lighting some parts of the room - their room, with their clothes and books and everything that reminded them that it was real - and feel so, so happy. He’d watch her wake up and smile at him, Taylor’s hair everywhere because she couldn’t really leave it tied up at night, and then she’d kiss him and whisper a soft “ good morning ” before hiding her face on his chest and just staying there for a while before they had to get up.
Ryan was always the first one up, so he’d make coffee and wait for her to get downstairs. They’d sit at the table and just look at each other with soft eyes, Ryan would share something about the construction site, how difficult it was to bring together something that would please everyone involved and Taylor would talk about her last student, her last art deal and what she’d make them for dinner.
They fought sometimes, like every couple would. But it never seemed to last more than an hour, Taylor was always afraid that she said something terrible and he always thought he was the problem. Something their therapists said about boundaries and issues with their families; about how Taylor wanted to please Ryan just so he could pay attention to her, and about how Ryan had trouble voicing his fears and how scared he was about her leaving. They had serious fights, they’d end up in tears and in anger, but it never lasted. They came from broken and twisted places, they deserved to heal on their own accord.
But they also had playful fights, about who would clean the bathroom or who would mow the lawn - Ryan knew he was the one who would do it, but it was fun seeing Taylor’s horror face when he said it was her turn. The kitchen was Taylor’s place, but during these moments it was a shared room and Ryan should do his part. He’d laugh at her, but always ended up doing the dishes while she sat on a chair and read a book out loud to him, or just sat there listening to some french song she loved.
Books. That was something they loved. At first their small house had a mattress and at least three boxes full of books - romance, manga, fiction, terror, drama, poems and art. Ryan built them a bookshelf, but soon every corner of the house had a book scattered around. They go to the books store and look the whole day for something new, for something they could read together at night or when Ryan was doing the dishes.
They were always excited to buy more and more things that resembled them in a way. Taylor had once bought a couch cushion that was the color of Ryan's eyes, the kitchen had small french words next to the oven and the dinner table had their names written in a way only they knew - and maybe Seth, because he was the one that gave it to them. Even if Taylor wanted a pastel house, she was the one that bought the most strange things and made it about them.
“It's fun! I think it looks like you” She said once, when she got home with a ceramic angel. Blue eyes, pale face and blonde hair She took a picture of it next to Ryan and posted it on her instagram, saying that the world needed to see it.
“It’s something to cheer up the house, it reminds me of the beach” When she bought a doormat with a crazy surfing cat on it - her mother hated it, his father laughed and almost bought one.
“It’s french!” He said when he brought home a toothbrush holder that was a trash apple. Taylor laughed until she cried, and even though they don’t use it, the holder is in her studio and it keeps a smile on her face every now and then.
Ryan loved that feeling, loved seeing her working in her studio during warm nights, loved how she’d bring him a cup of coffee when he was working and would just sit down and read something. He loved the kisses she’d give on top of his head when he was watching TV or playing online with Seth. Ryan loved every domestic feeling he had with her.
He loved waking up next to her, loved breathing in her perfume, loved how beautiful she looked when she laughed at something they were watching at night. How enchanting it was just to sit next to her and look at the sunset, how the sun would shine on her shoulders and how her hair looked prettier when she just let it be. Even on her worst days, when she talked to her mom or when she was exhausted and ended up ugly crying on his lap.
Ryan felt like loving her was the most incredible thing that happened to him and he could never get enough of it.
And Taylor loved everything about him, too. Loved him on his good days, when coffee and pancakes are on the table, when his eyes shine while he is driving and singing along to any song on their joint playlist. She loved him on bad days too, when he was hard to deal with.
Taylor loved him and he loved her. And their small comfortable house was what they always wanted. Dinners and holiday parties with family. Domesticity and happiness. Love and warmth.