*Peyton stretches herself awake the next morning way out of her element. She hasn’t woken up in another person’s bed fully clothed and not hungover in a long time. The morning light hurts her eyes, or perhaps that’s just the leftover burning sensation from the tears she cried the night before.*
*Deep down she knows why she was upset; she had something like this once before and she blew it. She had a kind soul who cared about her and she handled it so unbelievably wrong. She had something that most people long for, and she tossed it to the side like it was nothing.*
*And she’s apt to do it again.*
*Remorse takes over her sense of the environment she’s actually in. Her guilt-ridden conscience yanks her right out of the right now and throws her two years back. She rolls over, and muscle memory has her fully expecting to see Sadie there. Instead there’s…*
*She snaps into an upright sitting position and looks around, suddenly back in the actual moment.*
*She’s thoroughly baffled. Did… did he pull one of her own moves on her? No. He couldn’t have. For starters, they hadn’t slept together, they just… slept together. Secondly, this was his apartment. Where the hell else would he escape to? Plus, he’s just too sweet for that, even in a different scenario.*
*She sniffs the air and picks up the unmistakable scent of bacon frying. She gets out of bed and walks down the hall into the kitchen, where she finds @sinner-obie manning the stove, cooking several things at once.*
