#Playchoices: crimes of passion | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jerzwriter · 3 months

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Thank you to @alj4890 for this ask from this list! I've done all three of yours, and I'll be working on the others. Thanks to all who sent in requests!

Story: Crimes of Passion (Book 1 Timeline) Trope: There's only one bed... Characters: Trystan Thorne x Carolina Rose (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 2,000 Summary: A rainy night, a brokedown car, and a cheap motel lead to amusement and some discoveries.

Participating in @choicesjunechallenge2024 - Car and MHotel Original prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting's "There's one bed" prompts is highlighted below

Trystan x Carolina Masterlist Complete Masterlist

If Murphy himself had created a day, it would have gone something like this. Everything that could go wrong did, and as Trystan stood in the pouring rain, intently looking for… something… under the hood of Carolina’s car, he didn't foresee it getting better.

Carolina was seated in the driver’s seat, her frustration mounting by the minute. The thought of honking the horn and making the Drakovian know-it-all jump into the stratosphere crossed her mind, which brought a smile to her face.

She looked at her watch – it was getting late. While her little fantasy may have brightened her mood, it wasn’t going to get them out of this jam. Still soaking wet from before, she stepped into the drenching rain with her jacket lifted over her head and settled at her partner’s side.

“Trystan,” she groaned. “It’s time to give up. You can’t fix this.”

He looked at her with vexation; his desire to save the day greater than he cared to admit.

“I just need five more minutes…”

“What will five more minutes do?” She exasperated. “I looked at it for a half hour. Now you’ve been staring at it for 20 minutes without so much as touching anything. Besides, if I couldn't get it started, you're not going to get it started."

Trystan gasped audibly, clutching his chest as if her words had delivered a mortal wound.

“Et tu, Carolina?”

“Et tu, nothing,” she said, trying - and failing - to contain a grin. “Let’s just be real. Who is more likely to know how to fix a car? A sassy but usually broke boricua from the Bronx with a string of shitty cars and hundreds of hours of her father’s mechanical tutelage….or the spoiled little prince who was chauffeured everywhere in his personal Rolls Royce?.”

“Hey!” He snapped back. “That’s not fair! Sometimes, I was driven in horse-drawn carriages.”

“I rest my case!”

In truth, Trystan was tired of being wet and cold, so Carolina quickly convinced him that the car needed an expert and probably a tow truck. After leaving a note on the dashboard, the two of them made their soggy way to a roadside motel they had passed before.

“Are you sure there is no place more… suitable?” Trystan groused.

“We're in West Bubbafuck, Your Highness. I am sorry, no Four Seasons or Ritz-Carlton’s here.”

“I don’t require a five-star property, but I would rather not stay at the Bates Motel.”

“Well, it’s that or sleeping in the car, big boy! Personally, I’d rather not have a tractor-trailer driver careening into us at 2:00 AM. But I’ll let you make your own decisions.”

“You make entirely too much sense,” he sighed as they reached the front door of the motel’s front office.

Carolina grabbed the door handle with a satisfied grin. “And don’t you forget that!”

After securing a room, they walked down the outdoor corridor toward their room.

“I can’t believe this place has only one vacancy tonight.”

“Believe it or not, this area is pretty popular this time of year, and those who prefer not to camp, stay here. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

“Really?”

“Look,” she said, slipping the key into the door. “As long as it’s clean, has warm beds, and functional plumbing. We’re golden!.”

She pushed the door open, and when the room came into view, Carolina lost that edge of positivity, but Trystan laughed with delight.

It was minuscule, so small they'd have to take turns walking in some places, as side by side would be impossible. But that wasn’t the real issue. The real issue was the one bed. The one twin-sized bed.

“But look,” Trystan smirked. “The place is clean, I'll give it that.”

“Are you freaking kidding me!” She spat.

“Should I check if it’s warm,” he continued to instigate.

“I mean, one bed is one thing, but one twin-sized bed?”

“What’s the matter, Carolina?" he winked. "This is a great way for us to... bond.”

“That’s it!” She said, her hand already on the doorknob. “Being careened into by a tractor-trailer doesn’t sound that bad anymore.”

But Trystan reached over her and pushed the door shut. “Carolina, stop it. You were right; the car isn’t safe to sleep in overnight. This may be awkward, but at least we’ll be safe.”

“Awkward? I’m not concerned about awkward. Try impossible! How can the two of us fit on that thing? And this place is so small the floor isn’t even an option.”

“There’s always the bathtub,” he said, flicking the bathroom light on. “Or the shower stall?” he corrected with a sigh. “I could attempt to sleep atop that old console TV; it’s certainly big enough.”

The vision alone made Carolina laugh despite herself. “You’re not sleeping on the TV, Trystan. We’ll figure out a way to make this work.”

They took turns taking warm showers, which both had to admit felt heavenly. They also took turns using the small hair dryer to dry their underwear and shirts, their only options for sleeping that night. Trystan was sitting in the small sleeping area, holding a pair of boxers in one hand and the dryer in the other, when Carolina barged into the room, vigorously drying her hair with a towel and wearing another tied around her. They looked at each other with very distinct reactions: Carolina’s was one of amusement, but Trystan’s was... something else.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” Carolina chuckled. “I bet you never thought you’d be drying your underwear by hand in a dinky little motel one day."

If she expected a reaction, she was about to be disappointed. The man sat on the edge of the bed, mouth agape, trying and failing to string a logical sentence together.

“Trystan,” she said, waving a hand in front of his face, when she finally caught on. “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she laughed. “Come back to Earth. I'm sure you've seen a woman in a towel before.”

“Not this woman,” he affirmed.

Carolina looked at him with amusement. “This woman isn’t all that special.”

“I think I can draw my own conclusions on that,” he assured as a blush settled on Carolina’s cheeks.

“Fine,” she sighed. “My shirt is dry enough. I’ll put it on if it makes you feel better.”

She marched into the bathroom, shirt in hand, as Trystan contemplated how he could be so stupid.

“I don’t know if that will make me feel better... or worse... if we're being honest.”

Carolina emerged from the bathroom in her long, white, button-front shirt, damp locks falling down her shoulders.

“You know, you were wearing no more than a towel when I met you, but I was able to keep my composure.”

Now, it was Trystan's turn to blush.

“In fairness, we were too battling one another for you to give it much thought."

“Says you,” she winked, leaving him unsure of what to think.

“Are you flirting with me, Detective Rose?”

“Me,” she chortled. “No. I’m teasing you. There is a difference. Flirting is your domain.”

“Ah, but flirting and teasing are very close cousins.”

“Then you should know I don’t speak to most of my cousins,” she yawned, pointing to the bed. “So, how are we doing this? I really need to get to sleep.”

“Here’s what we'll do. I'll lay flat on my side, against the wall, and you figure out what you can do with the rest of the bed.”

"We’re obviously going to be touching," Carolina pointed out. "There’s no way to avoid that.”

“I know," he grinned lasciviously, playfully wiggling his brows.

"OK, Casanova," she smiled while tossing a pillow at him. "That touching means nothing. Do you understand?"

“Casanova was Italian, not Drakovian," he said with mock disdain. "Do you learn anything in America?”

“I know he was Italian! That’s not the point, you know... never mind.”

Trystan jumped onto the small bed, his back uncomfortably plastered against the wall as Carolina struggled to decide how she would sleep. Facing him would be just plain awkward, but facing away was bound to lead to unintentional spooning. She finally decided to face away; at least she wouldn't have to look at him if spooning occurred.

Despite the various forms of discomfort, Carolina managed to fall asleep quickly, but Trystan had no such luck. As the hours ticked away, he had given up any hope of quality sleep, so he lay awake with a million thoughts running through his mind. He chuckled as he recalled the first time he and Carolina met and marveled over how much they had been through together in such a short time. He wondered if she thought his voracious flirtation was all a joke, just a part of his persona - because, in reality, it was in his nature. But the more time he spent with this rare and astonishing Rose, the more he knew he'd love for them to become so much more.

But, as far as he could tell, she didn’t return those feelings, and setting himself up for another heartbreak was the last thing he wished to do. It would be best to push those feelings aside and take nights like this for what they were - rare and precious gifts from the universe that he would always, always treasure.

He had just begun to doze off when Carolina's voice awakened him.

“Huh, what?” he blurted, but she didn't stir.

Incomprehensible words fell from her lips, with the rare mention of ice cream sundaes thrown in for good measure.

“Dear God," Trystan lauged. "She talks in her sleep!”

Now that free entertainment was being provided, he lost all inclination to return to sleep. He wanted to hear every unintelligible word she said, finding it equal parts amusing and adorable. It was all great fun until his heart nearly stopped... did she just say?

“Trystan,” she mumbled. “Yeah, he’s cute.”

A pompous grin appeared on his face as he validated his sleeping partner's nocturnal confession. "Naturally!"

“I don’t know,” she sleepily giggled. “Maybe one day.”

Now, he had no idea of the context. Perhaps she wanted to get an ice cream sundae with him one day? Or perhaps the topic in her head changed completely and had nothing to do with him. But Trystan was going to take the "Maybe one day" the very way he wanted. Perhaps he didn't need to give up. With hope restored in his heart, he easily drifted off to sleep.

When the morning light broke through the tiny space where the drapes didn't meet, Carolina was quick to wake. She was fully dressed and scrolling through her phone when the exiled prince began to stir.

"Good morning," she smiled. "Did you sleep well?"

He wriggled around in bed, rubbing his eyes before responding with a groggy voice.

“How do you say I slept like shit in English?”

“I slept like shit," Carolina laughed.

“Well," he said, rising on an elbow. "There's your answer.”

“I’ve already called for a tow truck, and I’m arranging a rental car. I’ll drive back to the City so you can sleep." She stood up and grabbed her purse. "I saw a little coffee shop just down the road. I'll go get us some breakfast while and give you some privacy to get dressed."

“Thank you,” he muttered, then he recalled the detective talking in her sleep. She was at the door when he called out. “Oh, Carolina?”

"Yes," she replied without turning.

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk in your sleep?”

He watched with amusement as her shoulders slumped, and he heard her breath escape her. Carolina had forgotten about that little habit. She turned to him in horror.

“All right, what. What did I say?" She ordered. "Just get it out, how much did I embarrass myself?”

But Trystan's warm smile was quite reassuring. “Not at all,” he insisted. “Though you were talking about ice cream sundaes quite a bit. How about I get you one when we’re back in the City. I know of a great place on the Lower East Side.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that," she smiled in relief. "But I'm getting the biggest sundae they have. I don't come cheap."

"I never expected you would," he smiled, and she was gone.

He fell back into the pillows with a look of wonderment.

"Maybe one day," he smiled. "Maybe one day."

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Tagging others separately.

#crimes of passion #crimes of passion choices #trystan thorne #trystan thorne x mc #m!trystan thorne x f!mc #choices fanfic #choices stories you play #playchoices #playchoices fanfic

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