Peter loved sleeping with the curtains open. Waking up with skin warmed by the sun was pretty much the best feeling ever. Well. It was up there, anyway.
He was sprawled out on his back, sheets tangled around his waist, one arm flung up above his head.
So of course, when he woke up, it was completely numb. He struggled to sit up, the jostling movement more than enough to wake him from his doze.
"Whuh?" He blinked, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm. He wasn't the quicket in the morning. He looked around, confused by their surroundings.
Yes, their.
Apparently he'd been sleeping with Phaedra. Actual sleeping, not 'sleeping with' sleeping. Which was wierd, because he was pretty sure she'd told him he could never, ever, ever do that. Never be around her when she was in her daytime coma thing.
Also sunlight. That was a thing that was happening right now. Phaedra was standing in sunlight, and...not tanning. Or burning.
"Whassit?" He mumbled, ever-so-coherently. He managed to push himself upright, sheets falling away to expose a pair of boxers that had seen better days; boxers he was pretty sure he'd left in Hemlock Grove. But hell, there were more important things to think about right now that the appearance of his underwear.
"Why aren't you y'know, 'poof'?" He asked, making hand motions that suggested flames.