At No Time || Bruno Mars

38

Dawn light seemed more peaceful than it had been, even with all the unfavorable happenstances that were strewn through each lovers' minds.

Sunshine kissed Trystan's eyelids open, and upon realizing that her cheek was pressed into a fresh pillowcase inside of a Grecian home, she smiled into it. She knew Peter was not lying behind her, his arm absent from her waist and lethargic breathing from the nape of her neck.

Her ears picked up the sound of wind and situating of glassware outside on the balcony. Her stomach began to growl as the subtle smell of food drifted  into the room. She figured Peter had been trying to surprise her with breakfast, or from the clock on the wall, brunch. Trystan had not planned on sleeping in for long, but she had not the energy to stay awake before.

If she had not been sleeping off her jet lag, she and Peter were making love or pillow talking. The cycle continued until she had collapsed on top of him, completely worn and unable to entertain anything but slumber.

She stretched a little before grabbing her phone from off the side dresser. She saw a message from her mother asking how she was doing, a surprising response from Elle Marie she would have to keep from Peter, and several texts from Angelique, who made it clear her annoyance with Trystan.

Me and Bella just wondering where the hell our best friend went; with an accompanying picture of the both of them.

Trystan rolled her eyes and made sure to reply that she had told Angelique she would be out of town and be back before the week's end. "Out soul-searching" was how she explained it; she just needed a bit of time to herself to figure some things out, then she would return. It was random and not necessarily true, but it was the only thing she could think of that would not spark suspicion, that was if Angelique did not question Neal of Peter's whereabouts. Angelique could be a skittish woman, but she was not ignorant. She would put two-and-two together before long and corner Trystan until she confessed.

Trystan had told Roger and Neal she was going back to New York to visit her mother for the week, and as far as they were concerned, Peter would be busy dealing with Kimioko's busy schedule. Trystan was grateful they were not friends with the affianced; otherwise the façade would be disrupted with inquisitions of why Peter was yet again, off somewhere without her.

It was all too much to think about just as she awakened, so she set her phone aside to escape the untidy sheets she was beneath. She slipped into the bathroom to freshen up before digging about her bag to pull out her robe. She thought of tying it closed, but thought better of it as she moved toward the sliding door and would let Peter see what the wind allowed.

As she assumed, he had been setting up a meal for the both of them. His back was turned as he filled two glasses with what looked like freshly squeezed orange juice. A pot of tea—and Trystan could tell it was strawberry from the wafting scent—was surrounded by plates of food she was not familiar with but looked appetizing all the same.

She sneaked behind him and snaked her arms around his waist. "I would have never guessed that the great P. Dez could make such a decorative-looking table."

His surprise softened when he recognized it was only her, and he chuckled. He grabbed one of her hands and kissed it before retorting, "I thought I'd have to come in there and shake you awake. You weren't joking when you said you weren't a morning person."

"Well, other than than the jet lag, I think you're the one to blame for why I was sleeping in so late," Trystan accused and stepped in front of him. "You owe me a massage, mister." She jabbed her forefinger into his chest for emphasis.

Peter feigned shock. "All these compliments in under a minute; I never thought I'd see the day when you'd set your pride aside to do so. I'm impressed."