Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with and do not own any rights associated with One Tree Hill and the characters in this story. They belong to the CW network and the like.
Summary: I stare into those sad eyes and wonder why she never let anyone see her sadness, because even when she was heartbroken, Brooke Penelope Davis-Scott is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.
One Shot.
There are moments in a man's life that serve as mile markers.
Moments that, if you stop and think about them, seem to be meaningless in their present.
Like when you pick up your class ring during your Sophomore year in the cafeteria. That circle of metal is meaningless then. It holds no significant value to you when you have two more years until you receive your diploma. But, the day after you graduate, that ring becomes a time capsule. Look at it long enough and you'll be filled with memories and feelings that will never go away.
She was my class ring.
She embodied everything I hated, loved, and wanted to forget about high school.
I can't tear myself away from her eyes, staring up at me from the yearbook that's sitting on my desk.
A desk riddled with photos and scraps of paper bearing two or three lines of an attempt at a second novel. Which, if I keep losing myself in memories like this, will be filled with only one girl, one set of hazel eyes, and one set of pompoms.
Her eyes hold glints of every emotion she feels and if you can read them right, you can win her heart.
Even now, I know her eyes still give her away.
She's smirking up at me, pompoms perched on her hips, with that mischievous glint in her hazel eyes that reminds me of a night when she introduced me to the world of tattoos and fake I.D. cards.
I flip a few pages and she's standing proud behind a podium delivering a speech to our Senior class. Now this particular sparkle took me back to a time when she delivered the news to me that she couldn't be with me anymore. It's a good thing that people who are meant to be always find their way in the end. She sat on my bed and told me that we had gone days without having meaningful conversation.
What she hadn't realized was that those days we didn't speak, I didn't speak to anyone.
If I didn't speak to her, no one else mattered.
Another few pages and I'm in the Senior photos where we're dressed in tuxedos and the girls have v-necked dresses on.
Her eyes are sad.
There's no other word for it.
They're just sad.
I remember seeing those eyes once.
It had been five years after we graduated. She'd wanted to adopt a little baby girl.
She had to give her back.
I met her at the airport and that's when I saw those eyes again.
Those sad, sad eyes.
I stare into those sad eyes and wonder why she never let anyone see her sadness, because even when she was heartbroken, Brooke Penelope Davis-Scott is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.
As I close the yearbook, I see her and her eyes are anything but sad.
She's standing in the door of my office, a blonde little boy balanced on her hip and I can't tear myself away from her eyes.
