At No Time || Bruno Mars

54

Autumn never seemed like so in Los Angeles. It was still as hot and dry as the summer had left it, leaving the trees green as they clung desperately on to their last weeks of life. It was a month later, a month after Peter confessed to himself that he still had feelings for Trystan Wildes.

It was not a surprising revelation, but it annoyed him. What was he supposed to do with those feelings? He could not shower her with them, because she was still with Derek and had not expressed, not that he expected her to, if she felt the same way. So he pent up the verboten thoughts in respect to her, and begrudgingly, Derek.

Peter wondered of her bond with the man, what it was that had her clinging so tightly to him. She had said out of her own mouth she thought of leaving him, insinuating he was not the kind of man she wanted for herself. Alas, in almost every conversation they had, she would have to leave before Derek got home, or mention something that he had done to annoy her. It was frustrating for Peter to hear, but he listened on, encouraging her though he wanted to tell her to leave him.

But Peter knew that would not be fair. He knew that just before he wanted her to be happy, that he greedily wanted her to himself again. He could not help it. With every interaction, he grew more and more attracted to her, and though he did not act on it, he wanted to. But he did not know if she wanted to, and that made it all the worse.

Trystan had become an unclear woman. Not that she had been completely expressive in the past, but Peter felt he could at least get some notion of what was going on in that head of hers. But now, it was so hard to. It was strange. The more they spoke and the closer they got, the more she seemed to be holding off, as if protecting something Peter was sure would be safe in his hands.

She allowed only what she wanted people to know, and Peter tried not to be gluttonous as he knew she shared a lot more with him than she did anybody else around her. But he wanted more and then some.

That cupidity had not been lost on him. As of recent, Peter allowed himself to think thoughts he would have initially forbade.

Some innocent, like days where they would sit and talk or laugh over the silliest of things, others especially vulgar, images of her pinned to a wall where only her gasps of breaths could be heard, but they were there nonetheless.

Peter welcomed them, because he felt he would drive himself mad if he ignored them. But what came with that, was that other people began to notice, too, no matter how hard he tried to conceal it.

Neal had been over one evening, discussing production deals that Peter had finally managed to get around to, Jewel at his heels as she sniffed about for a treat.

"Jewel, no. Go to your bed," Peter demanded as he rubbed her head before gently pushing her into the direction of her cushion. She whined, begging for a while longer before Peter threatened to give her a bath. He learned that she absolutely loathed those, and the mere mention of them had her obeying an order without another complaint.

"So, how's everything going with Trystan?" Neal had asked suddenly, eyeing his set of papers with vigilance as if he had not just asked that question.

"Everything's fine. Good," Peter answered with as much nonchalance as he had been given, but he noticed Neal peering over the top of his glasses to look at him. Peter had not spoken much about Trystan since the day in the restaurant where he was accused of feeling something for Trystan that he refused to see and admit.

"So, you guys are cool again?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Mm."

Peter looked up at him. "What's that mean?"

"What?"

" 'Mm'.What's that about?"