Shallow

By: caramelo

I do not own One Tree Hill or anything related to it.

Author's Notes: Not much. Just something I had to get out when I should have been working on something else, of course. One-shot. Read and review. I'm not used to writing like this.

Some days, I turn over in my bed, and I look at you. You're still asleep, and you're hair is adorably tousled just so, and you just look so open. Your face holds none of the normal concern or worry or frustration that it usually does. It's just…blank. Peacefully so.

You must be so content when you sleep. You look that way. I envy you that. It must be so nice to not toss and turn, even in your dreams being tormented by the thought of today, tomorrow, and yesterday. Not that you don't do enough of that while you're awake, because you certainly share your weight of all the drama that seems to encompass us. Sometimes, you're even the cause of some of that drama.

Which is funny, you know, because you used to be the guy who avoided that stuff like the plague. You just didn't care for it. Disliked it, even. It was you and Haley, in a simple, uncomplicated relationship, laughing at the rest of the world who didn't realize how easy it was to be like that.

I don't exactly know how you were brought into my world. I mean, you were always there in a sense, on the fringes, linked by the mistakes Dan Scott made so long ago, but somehow, you became the center. I still try to figure out whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. You used to be the good guy, Luke. The good guy. What happened to that?

I happened, I guess.

Of course, maybe I shouldn't give myself so much credit. I happened, Nathan happened, Nikki happened, and, of course, Brooke happened.

Brooke…

We've made up, naturally. We're best friends. Or we were. We're almost there again. She loved you so much.

Actually, I guess love is the wrong word. Love is hard for Brooke. I don't really think she gets the concept. How could she, with parents like hers? And she doesn't deny it either. I've never heard her tell anybody she loved them. Not really. She might have in a sort of joking sense, but I don't think that happens all that often either.

And even though you betrayed her, I betrayed her, I think you had pretty strong feelings for her too. I saw the way you looked at her. Love wasn't as complicated for you. You understood it. Karen and Haley made sure you did. But I don't think you were prepared for the sort of love that you wanted to give Brooke.

We weren't prepared for each other either. I had a boyfriend when we first felt the spark, for God's sake. It was just too much, too fast. You were ready, but I wasn't, and then I was ready, and you were…taken. And then we made the worst mistake. I became "the other woman." God, I felt so disgusting sometimes after our little meetings. I was so determined to call it off between us. But then I'd see you again and I just…I just…

I don't even know. I just knew I wasn't ready to let you go. Maybe next time. Or the time after that. I just wasn't ready. I was never ready. I don't know if it was love. I hope not. Because I don't want to feel dirty and wrong like that again. I can't take it again.

The only other reasonable explanation I can think of is lust, but I hate that idea too. I want to think that we had something deeper than that. We had to have. Lust is what Nathan and I had, and me and him were the most shallow couple in the world.

We weren't shallow together, were we, Luke? We had something more, right?

I know we did. I just know it.

I mean, yeah, I was always back and forth, and yeah, it was always the wrong time for us, but things change. People change. Opportunities arise. Ours will come. I want it to. I guess the only question is, do you?

I wish I knew the answer.

Sometimes, it seems like you do. When we're laughing and teasing or having those in depth conversations about some music I thought you'd like, and you're looking straight at me with that intense glare of yours, as if I'm the only one you see, the only one that matters. Those are the times when I feel the smallest stirrings of hope. Hope that eventually we may be…something.

But, other times, when you're off having sex with random girls like Nikki or hooking up with a girl you just met, on Dare Night of all nights, and you don't notice me spiraling off, falling away, the times when I need you the most, I start thinking that you really don't want me. That there was a reason you picked Brooke over me so long ago.

Damn it, Luke. Sometimes, I wonder. Do you see me? I mean it. Do you really see me? You can't. Seriously, you can't. Because then you'd know. You'd know what was going on and how much trouble I was in and how much I wanted you to be the one to save me. If you'd really take a second to look at me, you'd know that. Because I'm not hiding it anymore.

I'm slipping away, Luke. I'm slipping away, and I want you to catch me. It has to be you. It was always you. Can't we go back? Please? Back to when you and I had something, not much but it was still something, and you were there for me, and I could cry on you about Nathan, or Mom, or just anything. You used to save me. Even when I treated you like shit on the bottom of my shoe.

"Choke," I told you. It was never true. But I think you thought it was. I think I used to hurt you. I hurt you, and I led you on, and I was just a huge mess. But you never let me push you away. You always came back for more, and I remember being so frustrated. I remember wondering: Why? Why is he still here?

You were always there.

Until now.

I pushed you out, Luke, and you let me. I screamed and yelled, and you left. You didn't try to understand. Not hard enough. You weren't your usual overbearing, I'll-never-leave-you self. I let you see how much pain I was in. I dropped everything. Emotionally, I was naked. And you couldn't handle it.

I replay the image of you walking out of my room so many times in my head now. Just turning away and shutting the door. It couldn't have hurt more if you had slammed the door on my head twenty times. I'm serious. Watching you walk away from me was one of the hardest things I've ever been through. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around it.

Why did you walk away? Why didn't you try harder?

It's not someone else, is it? It can't be. I mean, I know for a fact it isn't Anna, your supposed girlfriend. I don't care if this sounds conceited, but you guys don't have the connection we had. I don't see you giving her the same looks you gave me. I refuse to believe you really have something for her.

But if it's not her, then it's yet another random person, isn't it? It's always somebody else getting in our way. Nathan, Brooke, Nikki, Jake, Anna…I know this sounds awful, but sometimes I really wish they could just go away. All of them. Not forever, I guess, just long enough so we can sort things out, find out what we want. If we could just have one day alone, I know something could happen. Endless possibilities and all, right?

I guess I already know what I want. It's you.

But I need you to see that you want me too. Because I know you do. Or at least, you will. You always have before. Why should it change now when it used to work so well?

Face it, Luke, we just fit. We have something together that other people don't. We have history, and layers, and something else that I can't put a name on but if I think about it, I shiver and fidget, but I get excited all the same. Is that possible? To be excited and scared all at the same time?

I'm still trying to figure out whether I like the feeling or not.

And that's what I think about when I see you lying there beside me.

I like to think that these are the times when I see you best, see you the deepest. I like to think that I can really see all of you right now when your face is so peaceful and free of conflictions, such a contrast to the mess of complications and mistakes that I am. And that's when I shiver and reach out for you. Maybe out of greed. I want what you have. I want to be able to feel so content.

So I reach out. And that's when you vanish.