It's Complicated (Troyler)

Hashtag Troyler

*Troye's POV*

I rolled over with an annoyed grumble. I was still exhausted and I didn't want to get up yet. I wouldn't get up yet. Sleep didn't come to me as quickly as I wanted though, so I resorted to counting sheep. Not that it ever worked, it just seemed more interesting than thinking of nothing. I was nearing fifty sheep counted when the sound of something clashing in another room startled me and my eyes flew open for the first time that morning. It didn't take me long to realize this wasn't my hotel room, though it also didn't take long to recognize the pair of spare glasses on the bedside table either. Tyler.

My eyes flickered slightly to the right of the glasses and went wide when I seen the time. It wasn't morning at all! It was nearing supper time! Figures, poor Tyler has probably been waiting for me to wake up the entire day. Then again, if that was the case you'd think he'd know by now that he had to forcibly wake me up. I sat up groggily, scratching the back of my head. Where had my clothes gone? I was sure I left them in a sorted heap in the corner of the room? I scan the room a bit longer and spot them folded on a chair, with a piece of paper on top of them. I felt my heart flutter in my chest and rolled my eyes at myself for being so obsessive. It might not even be a love letter-type note, maybe he just left his grocery list there by accident. After a bit of reluctance I slipped my legs out from under the covers and grimaced. Couldn't he have least turned the heating up a little bit more?

I scrambled across the floor, trying to keep quiet to the best of my ability. I wasn't sure what Tyler was up to out there, but I wanted to read the note without him looking over my shoulder, granted it wasn't a grocery list. I plucked it up before worrying about getting dressed, scanning the cursive quickly.

"Dear Troye," I gushed, it really was a love letter! "If you're reading this you've finally gotten your lazy ass out of bed, so congratulations on that. I was going to make you a cute breakfast in bed, but you didn't wake up and it got cold so you're going to have to settle for Nutella. I know, you're so disappointed, (That's sarcasm, by the way). Alright, this did not turn out nearly as cute as planned so I'm just going to end it here. LOVE, Tyler." I smirked at the way he'd wrote 'love' in big bubbly letters, obviously his attempt at emphasizing it. He really was cute, even if he didn't think so. It amazed me that he could find a way to be a sarcastic ass even on paper. A lovable sarcastic ass though. I smiled down at the little note before carefully folding it up and tucking it into my pants pocket. I didn't want to lose it ever. It was the first of hopefully many notes from Tyler to come. I then slipped into my clothes, praying Tyler wouldn't walk in on me. I mean, sure he'd already seen and touched all there was, but I still feel like he'd find a way to make it embarrassing for me. With that thought in mind I made sure my hair looked at least half decent before creaking open the door and stumbling out into the other room. The kitchen and living room were attached, which meant I had a very clear view of Tyler from where I stood by the couch. He was in front of the stove, swinging his hips slightly probably to the rhythm of some song inside his head.

"Fuck!" I jumped, startled by his sudden outburst. I wasn't sure what was going on until he turned toward the cupboards with his finger in his mouth. He'd burnt himself, that adorable idiot. I watched him grab a box out of the cupboard and immediately jumped to the conclusion it was pancakes. I eagerly made my way to the kitchen and leaned against the fridge a few steps behind him. He still hadn't noticed me, or maybe he was just pretending, but either way he was busily picking up ingredients and setting them back down a few seconds later. Who knew pre-mixed pancakes took so much work? I hadn't exactly ever made them for myself before. There were advantages to living at home, that was for certain. I watched Tyler look up suddenly, at the clock on the opposite side of the room from me. He frowned slightly and I felt guilty. Was he really waiting for me to get out of bed this entire time?