Disclaimer: I do not own OTH. And I probably never will.

He'd never admit it to himself, but the truth was he thought about her often. All the time, actually. He might be in his office, writing an article, or on his couch, munching cheese doodles and watching TV, or simply just lying in his bed at night, trying to shake off the restlessness that consumed him. And then she'd appear before him – the same pink, beautiful face, the same dreamy hazel brown eyes, the same blonde hair, sometimes long and curly, cascading over her shoulders, other times short and straight, tucked behind her ear.

She was haunting him, he knew. In his dreams, in his thoughts – she was everywhere, her lips curved into a short, sweet smile, teasing him, taunting him.

And he loved her for it.

But there was also another sensation entwined with the pleasurable torture he felt. Regret. It was his fault, he knew, that they had drifted. He had been so young, so foolish, so oblivious, not only to her feelings, but to his as well. He had thought he was following his heart, when in fact, he was doing just the opposite – refusing to believe what it spoke.

He had told her that they were "okay". That they were still friends. But the truth was, they've never been friends. It had been so much more – it was still so much more. They had talked a few more times after that conversation in the library, but that was all. He had busied himself with Brooke, doing everything in his power to make things work out between them. He had hoped her insecurities would vanish, but it had never happened, even after their marriage. She could never trust him, and he couldn't exactly blame her, for he himself had started to realize that his heart was not with Brooke, never had been – he had given it away to a certain blonde-haired, emo-loving girl, and had left it there. With her.

His catastrophic marriage had ended 5 years ago, when they had both decided it was time to let go. They had never been happy, and it was blatantly obvious that they never will be. With each other, at least. Brooke had found happiness soon after, and was now married to a doctor by the name of Charles Kingston, with a baby on the way. Lucas has not been as fortunate – he had dated a few women after the divorce, but he had soon given up, knowing that the only woman who he could spend his life with was someone he hadn't seen since the senior year of high school.

So here he was, twenty-six and single, living in New York, working at New York Times, and though one would describe him as "successful and accomplished", rather lonely. But, he had grown used to it – he didn't expect it to get any better anyway, so he had learned to live with it. Except for his first and true love to suddenly waltz back into his life, there really was nothing he could ask for.

"Done!"

A triumphant grin spread across his face as he closed his laptop. Now that he had, after a few hours of constant and relentless typing, finished his article, he was free to …

"…go home and read a book," he thought, smiling to himself as he stood up and with the laptop under his arm, walked towards the exit of the café where he had been working.

Lucas, you are, for the lack of a better word, pathetic.

"There's nothing wrong with reading books, you know."

There is when you have read each of them at least fifty times. What will it be tonight, anyway? "The Great Gatsby"? "To Kill A Mockingbird"? "Brave New World"?

"Actually, I was thinking of "Of Mice And Men".

Oh, gosh. You read that last week.

"I did? I don't remember."

Isn't especially surprising, since you were too busy thinking about You-Know-Who while you read it.

"I wasn't thinking about Peyton. I haven't thought about her since …"

A minute ago? Yes, I know. I am your mind, after all. Besides, how do you know I was talking about her? I said You-Know-Who … maybe I meant Voldemort.

"Shut up. And I was going to say high school. I haven't thought about her since high school."

Ha! And I am Dan Scott. Luke, I am your father.

"Will you please, please be quiet? I feel like I am going insane."

You are insane, buddy. Sorry to say, but you don't need voices in your head to confirm that. That fact that you are 26 and your idea of "fun" is to –

CRASH!

It took Lucas a moment to register what has just happened, but upon noticing his t-shirt drenched with a hot, auburn liquid, and a woman sitting on the floor, visibly confounded, he quickly helped her up.

"I am so sorry," he apologized quickly. "I didn't realize where I was …" It wasn't until then that his eyes met with the lady before him. He'd recognize those eyes anywhere.

Holy waffles! With lots and lots of ice cream on top …

"Peyton?"

The end. Abrupt, yes. But I had no idea how to end it. And reading back, it was kind of random anyway, so …. Yeah.