After leaving Steve's room, Peggy had spent an inordinate and likely unfortunate amount of time rethinking her decisions. All of her decisions, from leaving Steve alone when he'd already been unusually handsy and relaxed, to allowing herself to step inside his room after he'd answered the door mostly nude. She should've known better. It was so obvious that things were off, and they'd only gotten progressively worse, and that led to a fairly sleepless night of second-guessing herself and fretting about whether or not Steve might've somehow managed to drown himself in the bath after all.
Stranger things had happened, and their luck seemed to be leaning toward the tragic.
Restless, she'd woken early, neatly covered any signs of exhaustion with a quick dab or two of concealer, and slipped out to the pool. Peggy might be too fair-skinned for lounging in the sun, but the waterfall was nicely soothing and if she wanted to slip out early this afternoon, being seen as much as possible was wise. It allowed time for idle socializing, assiduously avoiding any cocktails (no matter how much juice might be promised), and collecting her thoughts without having to deal with the feeling of walls closing in on her (or the remembered sensation of fingers in her hair or lips on her wrist).
She'd scarcely been back in her room for five minutes- not enough time to exchange the gauzy excuse for a sundress she was wearing or to repair to loose waves of hair that had regretfully begun to frizz in the artificially generated humidity- when the sound of knuckles on the door distracted her from contemplating the merits of room service. Eating anything in public still seemed suspect, but surely she could find something safe if it went directly from the kitchen to her door.
Putting the menu aside, Peggy backtracked to the door and swung it open wide, plastic smile in place slipping a fraction upon finding Steve on her doorstep. She took in the bouquet clenched in its white-knuckled grip, the dark smudges beneath hollow eyes, and allowed her smile to tilt into something wry but (mostly) genuine. "I don't suppose I have to ask how you slept."