At No Time || Bruno Mars

27

"And Peter has a fiancee; your point?"

"Okay, really?"

"Sorry. Touchy subject. But it's not as bad as you think. I've kinda got a ménage à trois thing going on with the both of them." Angelique smiled uneasily, and Trystan choked out a shocked laugh.

"You can't be serious. Melissa agrees with this?" Her girlfriend hadn't struck Trystan as the binogamous type.

"Eh. Melissa isn't really into guys, but she knows I am and when I presented the idea to her, she said she'd at least try it out. And I don't know if there's any guy that would turn down the opportunity of being with two cute girls at once."

Angelique didn't peep the slump of Trystan's shoulders. Is that what Peter was doing? Trying to have the best of both worlds? The way he spoke about his affianced wasn't in the highest regard to Trystan's relief, but it wasn't like he'd exactly left her.

Trystan half-heartedly listened on to Angelique's wild escapades. her mind wandering with the nauseating idea.

There was no telling what the future held or what truly roamed through Peter's mind. What if he fell out of love with her faster than he'd fallen in love with her? All her feelings would die at his parting feet. That thought numbed Trystan. She didn't wish for those feelings to go anywhere; they warmed her heart in a way not many things in a long time. But what if it were true? What if Peter was pulling her through a field of roses just to bring her to a garden of weeds? No matter how much she wanted to, she was unsure if she trusted him and his words.

She and Peter had not kissed since the day on her porch. Trystan would have regarded that as all her doing, but Peter was not presently eager to press his lips to hers either. In lieu, he tended to show his affection in other ways.

Trystan tried not to shudder when his fingers would lightly graze her lower back when he would pass by her. She bit back her giggles when his hand would massage her thigh beneath the table during Benson's meetings. When she would catch his eye, her gaze could not hold his. For the past week, Peter had barely spoken ten words to her directly, but she felt adored all the same. She damned his for making her heart swirled beyond the mean of knowing his true intentions.

She sat alone in the studio. For days she'd avoided sitting on the couch; fearing the remnants from that night would cling to her skin and invade her ethics, but she finally mustered up the courage to settle along the black leather, and was surprised and calmed when it only offered what any normal couch would.

Her grubby notebook sat against her thighs as she scribbled down thoughts. They weren't anything in particular, but she found it relieving to get down on paper whatever was on her mind. So indulged in her work, she had not heard the door open and close, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt her legs, which had been elevated on the couch, being lifted and plopped back down on a separate pair of jeans.

"Somehow I knew you'd still be here," Peter surmised with a cheeky grin.

Closing her notebook, Trystan gently shoved him. "You scared me."

"Still writing?"

"Yeah, nothing really. Just some thoughts."

"About what?"

Trystan paused before confessing, "About us."

"Us?"

"Bruno, what do you plan to do with your fiancée?" The question had to be asked. Trystan wasn't going to keep being pulled along by a string. "Are you trying to have the best of both worlds, being with me and her?"