A warm cup of tea was nested securely in her hands and a book sat open but turned over on her knee, waiting to be picked up and read some more. In the fireplace, a cozy fire burned gently. It was the perfect sort - not too big, not too small, and just the right amount of heat.
Peyton observed the common room while taking a small sip of her tea before turning her attention back to her book. She held it on one hand, using her thumb and little finger to keep the pages where she needed them, and balanced her cup carefully in her other hand. She pursed her lips slightly as she read. This novel wasn't one of her favorites, but it was a good read, if one could stomach it. Though, naturally, the plight of German soldiers in World War I wasn't exactly something she was concerned much with.
The fire hissed and crackled quietly and, aside from the occasional sound of the aged pages turning, was the only sound in the room. With only such small sounds around her, it was easy for Peyton to pick up on the sound of footsteps shuffling through the entrance. Dropping her head back and to the side, curls cascading over the arm of the chair, Peyton looked toward the sound, waiting to see who was approaching.



