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Of course after the fact she had to wonder why on earth she'd make such an offer. How long had it been before she'd trusted anyone on the island enough to tell them her story--months? More. Not until Taym, and not all at once. It had taken many conversations in the dark, all hushed voices and flickering candle light. America knew, of course, and Noah, but Taym had always known her best, and he knew the most.

So why now was she willingly offering up something she'd held so close to her chest, guarded, for so long?

There was no answer to that, not even from Warrick. The demon stirred sedately though her mind as she leaned on the counter and waited for the timer to go off on the stove. Her suite was small, the smell of baked macaroni and cheese filled it. Peyton wasn't even sure she was hungry, but this was what she did. Routine was important.

It occurred to her after a few moments that she hadn't bothered to give up her room number. An accident, but one she could have used now to put off what was going to be a painful and likely awkward conversation.

Instead her thumbs moved over the screen of her phone.

.

When there was no reply to the text her phone was abandoned onto the table top. Briefly she wondered if he would pass up her offer, possibly having far more important matters to attend to, but it would only take a few moments for her to learn otherwise. The knock on her door made her jump, even having been expecting it, and she straightened from peeking on on the pan in the oven, closing the door again before pulling the mitt from her left hand. "Yeah yeah, I'm coming. Patience is a virtue and all that crap." It came out a touch grumbly, but thenagain the topic of their impending conversation wasn't one she relished speaking about.

She was allowed to be a little cagey.

The door was opened, and the Sun was already standing to one side to let him in, pale eyes turned up to him. "Make yourself at home." She closed the door behind him, then made a b-line to the fridge to grab herself a soda. "Would you like something to drink?" Peyton wasn't so much thirsty, as she wanted something to do with her hands.

The suite he'd just walked into was neat and tidy. It wasn't exceptionally large, but the petite Sun had made excellent use of the space she did have. The kitchenette against the nearest wall housed one small two seater table beneath a window that had a couple of plants sitting on the sill. There was a shelf behind that with multiple cubbies and just beyond that was her bed with a ceder chest at the foot. A sitting area beyond that, futon couch and tv, and a doorway in the far wall that led into a rather roomy bathroom with a shower and tub.

"Mac and Cheese'll be done in five minutes."

She lingered beside the refridgerator, watching him as he looked around before taking a seat on her couch, and she gave a nod to his gratitude, shrugging. "Sure." Truth be told, it was better than eating alone. Noah had been working ridiculous hours lately, she hadn't seen him in a few days now. Long hours weren't really uncommon, but usually he still slept over, even if it meant creeping in at three am. At this point a hard note of anxiety had started to form in the pit of the Sun's stomach. One she didn't want to look at too closely, one she just wanted to ignore. Distractions worked best.

Like inviting trainees over to share uncomfortable stories with over a home cooked meal. It wasn't exactly something she wanted to do--nothing against Horace, he was proving to be quite the intersting fellow.

Pulling a glass down from a cupboard, she grabbed a handful of ice from the freezer then filled it up for him. He was peeking into her bathroom as she headed towards him, smiling now. A soft upward tug of lips as she came up to stand behind him. "It's pretty nice. The private bathroom is certainly a perk." It was bought in blood sweat and tears, but there was no need in mentioning that, he'd learn.

"That'd be pretty nice," she agreed, eyeing the spot beside him before heading back into the small kitchen. The timer was about to go off, and it gave her a chance to consider her answer for his first question. "Um, kind of." There was evidence, if one chose to look for it, that suggested she was not the only person that occupied the suite; a much too large sweater hanging on the back of one of the stools at the little table in the kitchen, a space on the mat beside the door that was meant for a larger pair of shoes then she owned. Little things here and there.

As the timer dinged the Sun was grabbing up the mitt from the counter and opening the oven to grab the pan again. The top of the mac and cheese was a golden brown, bread crumbs toasted evenly. For a few minutes Peyton moved around the kitchen, looking utterly domestic as she grabbed plates and filled them, turned off the oven, and tucked the mitt away into a drawer.

She'd return to him with plates, forks, and napkins in hand, and hand him over one of each before sinking down onto the futon beside him. "We can eat here, that's fine. Just be neat, okay?"

She could have taken offense to the charming comment, but she didn't. Instead she responded in a shrug. It was true enough. Even before she'd had a kitchenette of her own she would help herself to the much larger facilities in the cafeteria, making meals for herself, for her friends, for anyone that was hungry. It was familiar to her, something she'd have done back home. Now, with unlimited access to a stove, she saw little reason not to cook. Their lives were hard enough, any little comfort they could take, she would.

Her eyes followed the motion of his hand as he waved at her apartment, and again she shrugged, taking her time in answering more fully by taking a bite of her mac and cheese. Of course Astrid came up again, as she knew it would, but Pey would delay that particular conversation, at least for a little while longer.

"Noah sleeps here most nights." Or used to. Though she didn't want to get into that either.

Their conversation was going to be a veritable mine field of sensitive topics. Letting out a long breath, she turned her head to look up at him. "Everything huh? Well where do you want me to begin?" There was the potential for a very long story here, depending on just how far back Horace wanted her to start from.

"Thank you." She took a certain amount of pride in her cooking. It had been a long journey from box mac and cheese, to the home made masterpiece they were currently enjoying. Many failed attempts, many questionable meals. While he considered his questions she ate her food in small, delicate bites. It was perfect. Rich and creamy, with a toasted bread crumb crust. The cafeteria just couldn't compete.

Pey expected him to dive right into the harder questions, but he went for something that was supposed to be easy. She blinked, licking cheese of her fork, and concentrated on spearing another few noodles. "Boyfriend. He's in Life division." She didn't mention that he'd been working so many extra shifts lately that she didn't see him, barely talked to him. That wasn't any of his business. It was no ones, until she figured out what was going on, and what to do about it.

Except maybe America. if anyone could shine a little light on her current relationship situation, it was her Moon wife.

She thought about that, and her pale eyes slid away from him, out into the room. Not seeing it, just thinking. If Noah knew, maybe he'd be upset, maybe he wouldn't. A week ago she would have just said yes, but now Peyton didn't know what to think, so she just offered a shrug, playing it off as nothing, because to her it was. At least not now. "You owe me a shirt." It had been one of her favorites, now it was beyond repair.

Granted, she had tried to break his nose for it, and stabbed him.

As he inquired about her she glanced back up at him, brows arching before looking back to her plate and taking a bite. "Um." Tricky question. Peyton's childhood had been split down the middle. On the one side, a normal child in a loving family. On the other, a little girl trying to hold together the pieces of a broken family. "Neither, really. When I was little I liked books, and music, and I played outside a lot. That was before the accident."

"No dice, Nokoni." She eyed him, the shirt he was wearing, with an expression of disdain. "Not my style." Her fork came up, a noodle on the end of it, and she poked it in his direction. "1 shirt; to be pre-approved by photo before purchase. You have two months."

The noddle disappeared in a quick bite, then her focused seemed to return to her food as their conversation shifted into personal territory. "Mmhmm. When I was ten my mom, my sister, and I were in a really bad car accident. My mom died." It was sad with as little emotion as was possible. "It broke my dad, he was never the same after."