At No Time || Bruno Mars

58

Peter had not spoken to Trystan for over a day. After he had left her house with his ultimatum, he had assumed that she would call the following day, to either affirm or deny that she wanted the same things he did. But she did not, and through her silence, Peter had regrettably assumed that he had gone too far.

It had felt amazing to have had her in his arms again, kissing her as he had only hoped to, and her returning it with just as much ardency, but
who had he been to walk into her home and demand she make a life-altering decision and tell him within the span of three days what she had chosen?

He had laid out on the table exactly what he had been feeling and exactly what he wanted, but maybe he had been too determined, too determined to show her how much she meant to him, how much he wanted her to be his again, how much he still loved her. While he had meant everything he said, he had pressured her, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He was afraid he might have pushed her away rather than bring her closer.

It was late Saturday morning, and all of Friday had been occupied with thoughts of possible regrets, from exposing his true feelings and making himself vulnerable, and by doing so, leaving the option of having to leave her once again. He debated if he should call her to apologize for how he had behaved.

He had been painfully honest and at a moment extremely crude, but that was not how he had meant to break things to her. He knew she was still going through some of her own internal battles, and he had gone and done nothing but add to them.

Peter grabbed his phone from off the hotel nightstand, thinking it best to ask for forgiveness and to tell her she did not have to make any decisions she did not want to. He had not been back in her life long enough to demand things from her, and he hoped she had not resented him for thinking that he did, even if it had only been for a moment.

Just as he pulled up her contact and went to press for her call, her own call came through.

Confounded, Peter felt a bit nervous as he answered, "Hey, Trys." He did not know if she would appreciate him calling her by a nickname after the night they had had, but he was relieved to hear that she did not sound angry, but just as nervous.

"Um, hey. Hey, Bruno."

It was silent for a moment, and aware of how much she loathed awkward silences, Peter was not surprised when she went to speak again, but he cut her off.

"Before you say anything, I just wanted to apologize for the other night. I shouldn't've come at you like that, making ultimatums and shit," he absolved genuinely, not in hopes it would change her answer. "It wasn't my place to do that and I got carried away."

"Bruno," she sighed. "Look, we were both a little drunk off the wine and–,"

"I wasn't that drunk, Trystan."

There was another pause, but Peter did not fill it this time. He allowed for his words to marinate themselves in her mind, and she could approach him the best way she saw fit. He had not been expecting anything lengthy, but certainly wonted more than her meek, "Oh."

"Yeah . . ." Peter despised that in the presence of moguls he could keep his composure, speaking as if he had not a single fear in the world, but in front of Trystan, sometimes finding the right words was the most difficult thing.

He wanted to tell her that he was apologizing for the way he had spoken to her, sprung onto her without giving her much chance to think about it, but not that what he said was not true. He did not know how to tell her that he wanted her and loved her calmly, because in that moment, there was nothing he wanted more.