CLOSED STARTER FOR @akahellcat.
Jamie had gone to rather a lot of trouble for what was going to undoubtedly be a one night stand, but she didn’t mind. Whatever internal struggle Trish had -- and there was certainly one there -- had fallen by the wayside as they had enjoyed one another’s company, and it had, arguably, been all the more enjoyable with added the knowledge that Trish had very probably never done something like this before. That inexperience hadn’t spoilt things at all -- in fact, they had both been too drunk to notice.
She had no qualms about that, nor about the fact that last night had been nothing more than a one night stand, likely to never be repeated. Without even asking, she was quite sure that Trish would not wish to do this again. And this left her in a rather interesting and precarious position. She sat on the edge of her bed and pulled a pair of trousers on, as Trish lay there, apparently still asleep, and considered her options. As far as she could tell, she had two. The first was to continue to play the role she had adopted last night, in order to get Trish to accompany her here, and fake being the friendly, polite, woman she had been at the coffeehouse and then the bar. It was an easy enough persona to adopt. She would simply not suggest doing this again, and give Trish breakfast, and send her on her way at a socially acceptable time.
The second option was to tell Trish, in no uncertain terms, that this had been fun, but not to expect anything more serious. Though she doubted Trish would want anything more than this drunken fling, there was still the possibility that the other woman may want this to develop further, and she might have to nip that in the bud before it was even suggested. It would mean a rare display of honesty on Jamie’s part, and dropping her carefully crafted façade for the sake of expediency, but it would get things resolved, and get Trish out of her apartment quickly, so she could be left to enjoy the morning in peace.
Before Jamie could truly weigh up her options, however, Trish stirred, and Jamie turned to her, sitting quite still on the bed, and smiled weakly. Without truly thinking it through, she chose the first option. She had enough social preservation instincts to know that the latter -- brutal honesty -- was never truly a possibility. “Good morning,” she said, gently.
