Trovare L'amore

Finding Love

Summary: After Peyton's dad's death, the failure of her art gallery, and having found nothing left for her in New York, she's decided to go to an art convention in Venice, Italy; albeit not knowing that she'd find the love of her life because of one small coincidence.

Chapter 1: Broken

I'm hanging on to the words you say; you said that I will be okay.

All it took was another intake of breath before she entered her best friend's boutique: Clothes Over Bros; drooping her shoulders when she's spotted the scowling brunette motioning for her to walk over towards the counter, where Brooke, her best friend, stood behind.

"Nice to see you," Said the brunette, tone at its upmost sarcasm. She knew she was in another heap of lecture.

"Hi," Quietly, she stood in front of the counter whilst biting her bottom lip, giving the brunette an uncomfortable shrug.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Rasped Brooke angrily, staring down the blonde icily.

It was silent for a few more seconds until the last customer left, Brooke, who had just been giving Peyton a death glare sprinted towards the door and locked it, turning the 'Open' sign to 'Close' even if it was just 2PM.

"Where's you—"

"Left early," Brooke said in a sudden harsh tone, making the blonde raise a brow at how antsy she was being. "You're going to Italy without consulting me, Peyton! Am I being punk'd?"

"I don't need your permission, Brooke, I've never needed it and I sure as fucking hell don't need it now. I want to go to Italy because I need inspiration, okay? I need to see amazing and breathtaking art. You-You have a boyfriend, and you own a fucking boutique, Brooke! What do I have? Nothing. My dad just died; no one is buying anything from my gallery and I'm not in love. What do you want me to do?" Yelled she, as tears flowed down her cheeks at a rapid speed; looking up at her best friend who looked stunned by her sudden outburst.

"…Peyton..." Brooke said sadly, immediately feeling less angry at the blonde who, she, has never seen as emotional as this—revealing her feelings upfront.

"I don't need this from you, Brooke! I didn't expect you to understand anyway. Your life is perfect, whereas mine is nowhere near that," Giving the out-of-words brunette an unsympathetic smile before storming out of the boutique in anger. The fact that Brooke was angry at Peyton didn't make sense to the blonde for she didn't understand why not telling her the first was such a big deal—wait, now that she's thought about it, it kind of does make sense. Why? Brooke was always first. It just made sense she'd also want to be first to know everything, and be the first obligation of Peyton.

The blonde in turn, was getting sick of it.

Almost a week has passed since she's last seen Brooke; the two of them were so hung up about the fact that they didn't do anything wrong when in all hidden honesty, they knew that both of them were at fault.

She regrets it—snapping at Brooke like that last week. She didn't mean to be so harsh but the words just flew out of her mouth and she couldn't stop it. After she's left the boutique that day, she had hurriedly gone to her apartment and broke down on the floor, angered by the fact that she had shouted at Brooke, who, by the way was her only true friend. Now that she's thought of it, Brooke deserved happiness and she was just being a jealous best friend by saying those things to her. She didn't mean any of it. Of course she didn't. She loved Brooke with all her heart and knew that the brunette loved her too. It was hoes over bros. But just because she regretted those things didn't mean she would be apologizing.

She zipped her luggage closed before huffing loudly and lying down on her bed—back against the bare mattress that used to be covered in red sheets as a reminder of her teenage years.

She'd finally finish packing her luggage and was looking at the clock that was hanging on top of her doorway; watching it and waiting for twenty more minutes to leave the apartment, somehow hoping that one of her friends would stop by and tell her not to leave (even though she's coming back), she just hoped that one would care enough to try and tell her they'd help her through things this time, give her at least half an hour of their time. Bevin, Rachel, Millicent, Julian and Jake, she wished one of them would just rush in the room and give her a hug and tell her it's going to be okay, but she knew that wasn't possible. Even the thought of Brooke barging in her apartment was vague. It wasn't possible, though, as she hears a loud slam on her door, she sat up immediately and was shocked at the sight of a disheveled, no makeup, still pretty, half-heartedly smiling Brooke Davis in just her pajamas, rim of her brown eyes, red—obviously from crying.

"W-What are you doing here?" She asked, looking anywhere but the brunette who now stood by the side of her bedroom doorway, running a hand through her already messy brown hair.

"I'm here because of just one thing," Brooke's voice was shaky, full of fear; she's recognized it since she's spoken like that herself in many woeful events.

Peyton gave her a wry look, shrugging her shoulders and hoping that her best friend would take it as a sign to just continue what she was going to say. The time was ticking.

"I don't want you to leave, Peyton," Admitted the brunette, tears falling on her delicate face again; eyes stinging, so sore from crying every night before bed, and every morning before work.

There it was. The 'I don't want you to go' speech Peyton wanted. She wanted to jump up and down, really, but she was just frozen on her spot, both of them enveloped in silence before she faked a cough, initiating that Brooke should continue speaking.

"That's selfish but I don't want you to leave. I hate myself. I've been crying since you left the boutique. I haven't been to work since that day and kept telling Laura (her assistant) to run the shop. I can't sketch properly because my hands would shake and tears will threaten to fall and make my breathing uneven. Mark's worried I'm sick or something because I'm always in my bed whenever he's around. The words you said kept replaying in my head and it makes me cry and feel guilty, ," Brooke sobbed, dabbing at her eyes with the back of her hand second after second. "I'm a bad friend. No, that's an understatement. I'm the worst friend ever. I—I—Why didn't you tell me you ever felt that way, P? I love you as much as I love Mark, or even myself! It's you and me, Peyton. Hoes over bros. No secrets here, best friend. I overreacted over the Italy issue because I was last to find out, hell Laura had to tell me because she's heard it from Bevin's new boyfriend who she's only been with for a week if I can recall."

Peyton didn't know she was in tears until the tears had flowed down her cheek harshly that she couldn't control it anymore, but no words still left her mouth as the brunette continued speaking.

"I want to tell you we'll fix it together, Peyt, I do. But I can't. I can't lie to you…again. I can't fix it because this time, it's not me who can fix this. I know he's somewhere out there. That special guy for you, and when you meet him, you both are going to live happily ever after. He's going to fix you. We can try and get past your dad's death and all of the other crappy events that happened in your life these past few months but that's not going to fix you now, is it? It's just going to be buried somewhere in your heart again and I don't want that, Peyt. You've had enough heartache since you were nine and it's time you've had enough," Brooke sat down beside Peyton, hugging the blonde as tight as possible—both crying in each other's arms like they did since they were nine years old. "I don't want you to go, but I know that you have to. I'm not going to stop you. I'm going to just watch you and wait for you to come back because I know that we're going to be okay. You and me, remember?"

Peyton nodded, her tears seeping through Brooke's white pajama shirt whilst Brooke just rubbed soothing circles on her friend's back, also sobbing hysterically. They stayed like that for a few more minutes before the two pulled away and looked at each other with a smile.

"Water under the bridge," Peyton said hoarsely, wiping away the remnants of her tears as she gave held out her right knuckle waiting for Brooke's to do the same so they'd do their secret 'pound'.

Brooke smirked, nodding her head, pounding fists with Peyton before pulling her in for another friendly hug; one that she's sure both of them will miss until the blonde returned from Italy for who knows how long.

"I'm sorry," Both had said at the same time, erupting from laughter at how they were being like kids again, saying things at the same time.

"Hoes over bros?" Brooke smirked, raising an eyebrow at the smiling blonde.

"Hoes over bros," Peyton echoed before glancing at the time again. She had 10 minutes left.

"Well, you don't want to miss your flight," Brooke stood up from the bed and helped Peyton with her luggage. "I'd really like to come with you, but look at me; I ran the street in just this. Pictures of me in magazines are going to be swarming everywhere tomorrow."

The two shared a laugh before Brooke spoke again, looking into Peyton's eyes, hoping for a sincere answer. "Promise me one thing, ."

Peyton nodded, taking in a deep breath before meeting Brooke's eyes and giving her a smile.

"We're going to be okay, right? Most especially, you?" Brooke smiled sadly, pulling Peyton in for another hug. She's going to miss her so why not get as much hugs as she can, right?

"I don't know about me, Brooke, but us? We're good. We'll always be," Peyton smiled.

Brooke nodded before they pulled away from the hug, Peyton dragging her luggage to the doorway, handing Brooke her key and looking at the brunette. "Keep this for me for a while, okay?"

"Sure thing, I was going to ask for it anyway since I want to hang in your place and sleep for awhile before heading back home," Brooke chuckled, earning a smack on the arm by the blonde. "I'll take care of this dark and awesome apartment of yours. Don't worry."

"So, I'll call you when I reach there?" Peyton asked, smiling awkwardly at Brooke who nodded immediately. "I don't do well with goodbyes, B."

"I know that, but this isn't a goodbye, P. You know it isn't," Brooke feared that what she said might not be so true later on, but she wasn't going to voice that. She was scared.

"It's not," Peyton said seriously, before breaking into a smile. "Okay, well, I'll see you."

"Have a safe flight!" Brooke called as she watched Peyton walk towards the elevator. "You're going to be okay, P!"

Peyton turned her head slightly to look at the brunette before entering the elevator and asked, "How do you know that?"

"It doesn't matter how I do, because I just know it," Brooke smiled, waving at Peyton who gave her one last smile before disappearing in the elevator—out of her line of sight.

Is it worth continuing? Tell me what you think!