Trent wasn't used to this. 

It's one thing to wake up next to someone that you had been intimate with the night before, when you're both worn out and lazy. This had happened quite a few times, -- however, when both of them had awakened, the other party would recognize it as an awkward moment and get out of there as soon as possible, probably never to be heard from again.

That wasn't what had happened here, though. 

For one thing, he hadn't been with anybody in that way the night before. For another, the woman wasn't even still lying in bed with him. 

She had already moved into the kitchen, bringing a fixed plate in just before he opened his eyes. 

"I made you breakfast," she announced proudly.

All the while, all Trent could focus on was the awful pounding in his skull, not to mention the queasy feeling in his stomach. 

Hungover. As predicted. 

He groaned, utterly miserable as he placed a hand against his abdomen.

Tori frowned as she sat down next to him. "Not feeling good?" 

Not feeling much like conversing, Trent shook his head. 

The redhead simply smiled in response, sickly sweet. "Well," she said. "There's something I can do about that. Headache?"

He nodded again. 

"Easy fix." Without warning, she leaned in, pressing a quick kiss against his throbbing temple.

 At first, Trent was tempted to recoil, -- he definitely wasn't fond of the fact that Tori's method of pain relief seemed to require so much physical contact. And yet, she was right, -- as soon as she pulled away, the pain was all gone. 

He stared at her, dumbfounded as she offered him a lovely grin in return, eyes sparkling. His face flushed slightly as he absent-mindedly touched his forehead, as if he were looking for some sort of evidence. 

Of what, he didn't know. 

She was obviously magical in some ways, miraculous. There was no other explanation for it. 

Now, she forced the plate of food into his lap, playing the part of some paranormally inclined protective mother. "Eat," she ordered. "It'll make you feel better."

Slightly startled, he did as she asked. 

Once she was seemingly satisfied with his food intake, Tori started asking Trent questions. 

"So," she began. "I hear you're a musician."

Picking a slice of toast apart, Trent shrugged. "I guess," he said, voice containing obvious notes of melancholy. "Last thing I made, I was told it was an abortion, so..." 

Tori whistled lowly. "Lord," she drawled. "That isn't very nice at all, is it?" 

Trent laughed bitterly. "Obviously."

With that, he returned his attention to his food. 

Tori wouldn't allow the silence to settle between them too soon. 

"What kind of music do you make?" she asked.

"Industrial," Trent replied quickly. "Y'know, a bit like metal... But with synthesizers. And samples. Lots of samples." 

"Interesting." Tori stretched across the bed, idly seeming to examine her arm for a moment before speaking again. "I used to be a musician, too."

"Really?" Though slightly muffled by a mouthful of bread, Trent's voice seemed to reflect genuine intrigue. He swallowed the toast. "What did you play?"

Tori smiled, looking wistful. "I was an almost-classically trained pianist," she stated. "I say 'almost' because they could never teach me the sheet music; even after years and years of lessons, I was doing it my own way." 

Trent eyed her, looking somewhat puzzled. "Were you any good?" he finally asked hesitantly. 

Tori chuckled. "Well, I'd like to think so." She turned back to him, giving him a searching look. "Do you think you're any good?" 

Even though she was inadvertently hitting him where it hurt in that very moment, Trent forced a wary smile onto his face. "Yeah. I'd like to think so, too."

"Well..." Tori drew the word out for an awfully long time, leaving him waiting. Finally, she cast her gaze his way with a smile. "Maybe you should show me."

Trent just blinked in response. Though he didn't feel quite so physically ill anymore, it would have appeared that the previous evening's substances had effectively turned his brain to mush. "Show you what?" 

The radiant grin on Tori's face only widened. "Let me hear some of your music, of course," she elaborated. "I figure I'm a perfectly good judge of what is and isn't good, don't you?" 

Once again, Trent felt his face go red. "I, um-- Don't know if my music is really meant for... people like you." 

Tori laughed again. Trent swore that could be music in itself. 

"Oh, please," she said. "I'm an angel, not a nun. There is a difference, believe it or not." Her expression went serious for a moment as she seemed to really consider something. 

Trent noticed that she gnawed at her lip; he was almost tempted to tell her to stop, that her lips were too nice for her to be chewing them. As soon as he proceeded to question why he was thinking sappy shit like that, Tori released her bottom lip to speak again. Of course, her skin was still perfectly smooth, totally unharmed. 

"I... saw so much in my lifetime." She smiled, though something about the expression made her look soft and sad. "No music's gonna shock me, I can assure you." 

Trent grimaced, thought about it for a moment. Finally, he sighed, pushing away the breakfast plate that he had almost cleaned. "Fine," he said, careful not to create the illusion that he was too eager to share his work. He stood up and straightened his clothes, keeping his back turned as he headed towards the stairwell. "Piano or guitar?" 

Tori stood, following him. "A multi-instrumentalist." A slight giggle followed her words. "I'm impressed." 

Trent sighed, blowing a loose lock of dark hair from his face. "Yeah, well... don't get ahead of yourself."

🖤

"What do you think?" Trent eyed Tori anxiously as he lifted the acoustic's strap from over his head, pushing the guitar to the side. He found himself twiddling his thumbs under her appraising gaze, not knowing if the smirk gracing her pretty lips was a sign of approval or pity. "It's definitely a work in progress, so don't be too harsh, please..." 

Tori laughed. "Don't worry," she said. "I'm not gonna rip into you or anything. I'm not my old piano teacher." 

She was quiet for a while, seeming to think. He could see her mind wandering just by the way her eyes looked; bright blue gone icy, what was once focused, now clouded over.  Then he realized that he had made more eye contact with her than he had with anyone else in a month, -- even Brian, -- and threatened to blush again. 

Finally, Tori spoke, seemingly as to save him the embarrassment. "I think that it's... very bleak." She cast a pointed look in his direction. "Which is by no means a bad thing, -- we all need to write what we feel sometimes. Even if what we're feeling isn't pretty." She kept glaring at him for a long period of time after that, as if to silently ask if he really did feel that way. 

His eyes simply darted away, avoiding hers. 

He did feel that way, he thought. Sometimes. 

More often than he'd like, that was for certain. 

"I did." The admission came quietly, so that Trent was unsure if he had just imagined it. 

Still, he met her eyes again, and asked: "did what?" 

Tori stared back at him, wide-eyed, eyes full of emotion, simultaneously looking shocked, and so very happy that he had asked. 

"I felt that way," she answered quietly. "And wrote about it, sometimes." 

Trent swore he saw the slight glimmer of a tear in her eye as she looked at him with a curious tilt of her head.

 As if he was the interesting one out of the two of them. 

Finally, she seemed to come back from whatever it was that had pulled her under, seeming to have decided something. The sadness vanishing from her face just as soon as it had came, Trent jumped as she suddenly wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close with a surprising amount of strength for someone who was supposedly dead. 

"Well, I don't want you to feel that way again any time soon," she murmured into his ear. "That's why I'm here." 

She pulled away, beaming at him. Despite the shock and slight awkwardness of the situation, Trent felt a sudden surge of affection, cutting all the way through him. 

Awkwardly, he huffed out a chuckle. "Thanks," he said. "That was really nice, Tori."