*

Hours later, he awakens, calling Audra's name, only to find she's already gone, "Audra?"

He sits up, stretching as he swings his legs off the bed. The floor is cold and creaks under his footfall. Peter yawns, reaching for his watch to check the time. It's almost noon. He rubs his eyes, "Shit," and stands. He'd planned on going to the Country Club with James and his friends, Audra had invited him, but he knew they'd already left.

Fighting with Kendall the night before last had really taken it out of him. Peter pads across the floor, feeling like he's been hit by a bus. As he enters the bathroom, he finds the mirror clear, and there isn't a trace of condensation on the counter. It's been hours since Audra was here. If it wasn't for her forgotten shampoo bottles on the bathroom rail, there would be no trace of her at all. The smell of Chance Eau Fraîche Perfume lingers, jasmine and teak awakening Peter's senses. He sighs.

Peter uses the restroom, flushing and heading towards the sink to wash his hands. Mid-lather, he looks up, studying his reflection.

The years haven't been kind to him. Grey hairs twist, hiding amongst his chestnut curls. His shoulders sink as Peter frowns. Delicate freckles decorate his nose and cheeks. He feels old. He knows he's not. He's only twenty-six, but the last four years haven't been easy. Loving Kendall hasn't been easy. Peter is tired. He contemplates going back to bed when—

Peter spots something out of the corner of his eye. A note tucked in the mirror frame. It's addressed to him, "Peter." He reaches for it, unfolding a sheet of notebook paper. In a neat cursive scrawl, a message is written.

It reads: "Thanks for the shower. I promise I'll try not to make a habit of it. X. Audra." Then further down: "P.S. You snore."

Peter laughs, a smile spreading across his lips.