A/N: Nathan/Peyton because I love them. This follows the show up to the end of S2, only Nathan and Haley never got married.
Shows Nathan and Peyton, past and present, with little flashbacks triggered by reminders of things neither can - or wants to - forget. Flashbacks in italics.
----
He doesn't think his mind should race this much, well, ever. He's not the kind of guy whose mind races, well, ever. Especially not over girls. Now women, he supposes.
But there she is, sipping from her paper coffee cup, and she brushes the hair from her face when the wind blows it, and he can't stop the onslaught of emotions. He's not the kind of guy who feels those things, either. He never really was, and he hasn't been tested in recent years enough to think that he is.
But those two simple actions make him remember so many moments with her, and his heart kind of flutters in his chest and he wonders if that's normal. Maybe for some people. Not for him.
Peyton was kind of always his exception though.
-
She's 15 and she drinks too much coffee and she's cynical and jaded and bitter, and he wants to know why. She glares at him any time she catches him looking, though in her defense, he's usually looking at her chest or her ass, and she tells him to fuck off any time he even says hi.
He's smitten.
He walks into class one day and sets a cup of black coffee on her desk.
"I asked the guy how you usually take it," he says before slipping into his seat two desks over from hers. He thinks he sees her smile.
-
The first time he really talks to her - has a proper one-on-one conversation with her - she's sitting on one of the old swings in Brooke's backyard. The brunette has thrown a party for the cheer squad and the basketball team, and they're the only three freshmen there. Peyton hates every second, though that's no surprise.
He sits on the swing next to her, and wraps his hands around the chains, and he feels about nine years old, like he's talking to this girl on a dare. She doesn't even look at him.
"This party sucks," he says.
"Now it does," she claims, looking at him with a raised brow, telling him that it's worse now that he's sitting next to her. He just uses his blue eyes and his smirk to get her to cave, and she lets one corner of her mouth turn up. "It's because the seniors are morons."
"Tell me about it," he says with a laugh. "It's one in the afternoon and they're doing keg stands."
"Like you're such an angel," she scoffs.
"No." He shrugs his shoulder and their eyes lock. "I don't think I'm a moron though."
"Debatable."
"What'd I do to make you hate me?" he asks. He's still grinning at her, and she rolls her eyes.
"When we were nine, you stole my favourite pencil," she explains.
"I know."
"You know?" she asks, glaring at him.
"You bitched about it for a week. You're still pissed at me for that?" he inquires seriously.
"My mom got me that pack of pencils. That was the last one," she says quietly.
He knows her situation. He knows her mom passed away when she was little. He doesn't apologize to her like maybe he should, and he watches her get up and walk back into the house.
The following Monday after school lets out, he catches up to her on the quad and places something in her palm before she even really knows he's there.
It's that pencil. Black with shiny purple and pink little hearts printed on it.
He backs away from her and watches the wind blow her hair into her eyes, and she brushes it aside just in time to see him wink at her. She smiles at him bigger that he's ever seen her do before.
-
Their relationship lasted a little over a year, but crashed and burned so quickly that it made his head spin. He knew he wasn't the best boyfriend and that maybe he really didn't deserve her, but he really wanted to. He just didn't ever really know how to understand her or even begin to try.
He always felt like she was too good for him, no matter how many times she'd try to tell him she wasn't.
When they broke up, it was messy and bitter, and they hated each other for at least a couple weeks (it was high school after all; no one stays that mad for that long) and then they both moved on. She was into Lucas and screwed that whole thing up almost immediately, and Nathan developed feelings for his tutor, who happened to be Lucas' best friend. Lucas fell in love with Brooke, at least for a while, until right before graduation when they broke up. Peyton fell for Jake, who was like some sort of rogue single dad, with the way he came and went from her life. It seemed no one ever really stayed in Tree Hill.
Haley was a great girl. Kind and sweet and quiet, but tough and sarcastic and outspoken. She didn't treat him like he was a dumb jock, but she didn't fall at his feet either. He was flawed, and she let him know it, and she made him want to change that. He wanted to be good enough for her, for anyone, and at the time, he wasn't. He and Haley managed to fall in love somehow, and it was good for a while. It was nice. It was fairly stable and consistent. She balanced him out, and they were good to each other.
Until she met Chris Keller, that is. She seemed to become a 'singer' overnight, as opposed to just singing for fun, and that dream took her away from Nathan. He didn't want to be bitter about that, but he would have stayed with her. He'd already arranged it, actually. He was set to go away for the summer, and he changed his plans so he could stay with her.
She wouldn't change hers to stay with him.
She never came back from that tour. He was just glad they'd broken up before she left. Nathan Scott didn't wait around for people. If she didn't want to be with him, then fine. He'd be alone. He could do it. He had a brother and friends and he was fine.
He hasn't been in a serious relationship since.
He's thought about it a lot over the years. Of his two real relationships, one was volatile and a little crazy, and the other was a constant game of cat and mouse, lead and follow. Somewhere along the way, he realized that his relationship with Peyton, as angst-ridden as it was, was probably the most healthy relationship he's ever had with anyone. Peyton got mad at him almost daily, but he usually gave her reason. She'd call him out on his mistakes, but he wouldn't do anything to fix them. The highs were high and the lows were low, and in the middle, there was honest, pure affection for one another. They lost sight of that somehow.
Watching her now, notes and papers sprawled out on the picnic table in front of her, he still feels like he doesn't deserve her. The difference now, is that he might now how to try to.
----
He watches her long enough that she looks up and sees him there, and she looks surprised, then shakes her head like she doesn't believe it. She waves him over and stands as he walks across the court towards the picnic table. She stands and wraps her arms around him and says his name into his ear, and his heart does that weird beating thing again. He hopes she doesn't notice that.
"I heard you were here," she says, as though it was some big secret and she heard it through the grapevine and not ESPN.
The car accident that ended his playing career has been one of the most talked about news stories for the last two months. He was driving through an intersection and was hit by someone running a red light. His ankle was shattered and had to be surgically reconstructed, and he still walks with a cane and can't tie his left shoe yet. He doesn't want to be bitter about losing the game that never lost him. After all, he had three great years in the NBA playing for the Celtics, but now he's 25 and he doesn't know what he's going to do with his life. He's back in this stupid town that he fled so quickly after high school. He hadn't looked back once. Not once.
Now he's moved home, if he can even still call it that. As much as he hates that he's here, he kind of loves that she is.
"I didn't know you were...are," he says, stumbling over words. "How are you?"
"I'm um..." Her voice trails when she sees that hint of sapphire blue in his eyes. She'd pointed it out once, late at night after they'd snuck into his beach house to be alone, and he'd told her that maybe it was just for her. It was just a line, and she knew that - still does - but she still loves that colour.
"Peyton?"
"Yeah!" she says, laughing at herself. "Yeah. I'm good, you know? Just working and stuff." She sits and points to the spot across from her, and he smiles before he sits down. "How are you? You look good."
"Liar," he says, and they both laugh softly. She wasn't lying, though. "I'm...I'm adjusting."
"I bet," she says. She looks at him with sympathy, but it's not the same kind that everyone else gives him. The look in her eyes says, 'It's shitty, but suck it up, Scott.' He thinks that's kind of amazing. "Wow," she whispers. "It's really good to see you, Nathan."
"You too," he says sincerely. "You stayed here? All these years?"
Out of everyone, he kept in touch with Lucas the most. They're brothers, after all. He tried to keep in contact with Peyton, and he did for a little while; well into his third year at Duke. After that, they just lost touch. He got busier with basketball and the draft. Looking back, he doesn't know why he never picked up the phone to talk to her. She doesn't seem fazed by that.
"Yup," she says simply, like she's proud of it and she feels she should be. "Just me."
She's right. Everyone else left. Brooke to New York, then L.A., and Lucas to New York. Haley was long gone before high school ended. Peyton's the only one who stayed. Nathan always thought she'd be the one to leave.
"Karen's still here though," he says.
"Karen and Lily," she corrects. She loves that little girl. "And your mom. This is still my dad's home base, too."
"Quite the little group you've got," he says. He's not teasing her. He's smiling, because he loves that she's been around with these people that he should have been around more.
Lily is his cousin (or something) and he's barely seen her a handful of times since she was born. He's gotten Christmas cards and photos and a few letters and emails from Karen, and he's grateful. He always respected her and she treated him like their situation wasn't as messed up as it was - is. He's obviously been in close contact with his mom, but she's been traveling the world a little bit and generally being kind of crazy. None of them have ever mentioned Peyton. He doesn't think. Maybe they did and he glossed over it. He's kind of a jerk that way. He doesn't like it.
"I like it," she says. "Needs some more men though." He laughs, and she almost blushes when his blue eyes sparkle. "I guess it's a good thing you're here."
"You guess?" She shrugs her shoulder and takes a sip of her coffee. "What have you got here?" he asks, looking at the papers spread between them. "Looks...intense."
"I run the town Arts Council," she says, like it's really no big deal. He knows that it is. "I'm planning a festival."
"That's...awesome."
"It's alright," she says. She looks down at the mess she's created on the table with all her things and she almost laughs. "It's kind of hectic." He nods and folds his hands in front of him. "I love it though."
"And the River Court is your office?" he asks. He smirks when she rolls her eyes. She always used to do that.
"I have an office at City Hall. Right next to the Mayor's actually," she says, shrugging her shoulders again. "It's nicer out here."
"Yeah," he says. His voice is almost sad as he glances over his shoulder to the old blacktop. He checks his watch and looks up at her. "I have to go. I'm meeting mom."
"Okay," Peyton says sweetly.
"We're furnishing my house."
"Fun," Peyton says, laughing at the sarcasm. "With your mom's taste or yours?"
"Mine," he insists firmly.
"Sure," she says, like she doesn't really believe him. "I'll...I'll see you around."
"Yeah," he says quietly. He stands from his place and smiles before he starts to walk away. He hears her footsteps running across the court, and when he turns around, she throws her arms around him again. He smiles and closes his eyes as he holds her. He doesn't know why.
"I'm glad you're home," she says quietly. She pulls away from him, looking cute and embarrassed as she tucks her hair behind her ear. He has to remind himself to let her go.
"I think I am too."
It's the first time he's admitted it. He thinks it might be the first time he's really believed it.
----
She hates herself for looking for him around every corner. She shouldn't. He's just an old friend, she tells herself, and it's been a while since she had someone her own age to hang out with. Well, that's not true. She's got Mouth, Junk and Fergie. That's not the same though. She's known Nathan forever. She still feels like she knows him.
After Brooke left, they tried to keep in touch. But as Brooke's company grew, the calls came less and less. Peyton would get flowers on her birthday with a standardized little card and a gift certificate to Clothes Over Bros. Their friendship fizzled out until it was barely existent, but Brooke's troubles with her mom and intense fear to give her heart to a man who loved her had her calling Peyton in tears, apologizing for being a bad friend. Water under the bridge. Now they talk at least once a week, trading their updates. Brooke insists Julian is 'this close' to proposing. Peyton actually kind of agrees.
At the end of the summer after their senior year, the summer Peyton spent with the boys in Tree Hill - Lucas, Nathan and the River Court guys - she knew it was 'now or never' to ask Lucas how he felt. Apparently to him, it was never. She asked him if he still had any feelings for her, and he'd just said her name softly, then mumbled an apology and something about his leaving. She pretended it didn't hurt her, though at the time it was breaking her heart. She realizes now that her emotions were misplaced. Well, maybe they weren't. But they've disappeared nonetheless, and she and Lucas still speak about once a month.
She wonders how she didn't know Nathan was moving home. She asks Lucas about it in an email, and he tells her that he didn't know it either until Nathan had bought a house.
She sees him one day when she's driving, but he doesn't see her. She's long since gotten rid of that old car of hers and now drives a new convertible. He's talking to Fergie in front of Karen's Café, and Peyton finds herself smiling when she sees him laugh. Fergie demonstrates the way Nathan should be walking with his cane, and she has to laugh herself. She watches the guys say goodbye to one another, then Nathan holds the door open for a mother and daughter walking out of the café before he steps inside.
-
"You idiot!" she yells. She slams her car door closed and marches over to him. "You aren't supposed to be playing!"
"I'm not playing. I'm just...practicing," he says, smirking at her. "There's a difference."
"You're going to hurt yourself even worse," she tells him. The anger has left her voice and now she's just concerned. It's cute, he decides.
"I'll be fine. It's just a few free throws." He shrugs his shoulders and sends up another shot. She surprises him by wrapping her arms around him. "What's this?"
"You scare me sometimes," she admits.
She looks up at him with those amazing eyes of hers - the colour of which he can't even really describe - and she looks so beautiful that it makes him forget about everything else. The pain in his ankle and his focus on basketball. None of that exists somehow. It's too strong an emotion and it makes him uncomfortable.
"You sure you aren't just trying to lure me away from the hoop by turning me on?" he asks.
"Nathan," she says. She tugs his arm before slipping her hand into his. "I love that you'll do anything for basketball, but...sometimes it's not worth it."
"My dad would kill you for saying that."
"I'm being serious right now," she says. He links his hands together and they rest right at her tailbone. He loves that. "I want you to make the NBA, and you will, Nathan. But right now, you're 15 and you have a sprained ankle. You can take a couple days off."
"Will you kiss me if I agree to it?" he asks, blue eyes shining down at her.
"Maybe."
"Will you do more than kiss me if I agree to it?"
She leans forward, pressing herself against him and forcing him to hold her tighter to steady them both, and she speaks against his lips. "Maybe."
"Okay," he whispers. "I'll take it easy."
"Thank you," she says. She kisses him, and all she can think is that he's finally done something she asked him to. Not that she asks much, or often, and yes, this has more to do with him than it does her, but he's taken her advice to heart.
That's the moment she realizes she's falling for him.
-
She has to ask herself if she's so interested because he's an old friend and he's come back to town.
Or if she's so interested because he's Nathan.
----
He's walking along the pier towards the place where he's doing his rehab on Saturday the first weekend he's back, and he hears a distinctive laugh. He finds himself smiling before she even comes into view. At her side is the little girl he's spent some time with in the past couple days.
"Nathan!" Lily cries. She looks up at Peyton, pleading with her big brown eyes to run ahead. Peyton nods and Lily rushes over to Nathan. "Hi!"
"Hey," Nathan says. He laughs when Lily holds her hand up for a high five, and he obliges her. "How are you?"
"Good. Me and Peyton are getting chocolate milkshakes and fries," Lily tells him. Peyton walks over with a sheepish smile on her face.
-
She sits in the corner booth of the diner at the edge of town, and he watches her in amusement as she sweeps her french fry through some ketchup, then dunks it into the little dish of gravy. She notices him looking just as she's stuffed her food in her mouth.
"What?" she asks after swallowing.
"You can't be this skinny," he says, like it's a fact. "You eat like a dude."
"Shut up!" she cries, leaning across the table to shove his chest.
He laughs and she takes a sip of her milkshake. "I like that you eat like a dude," he tells her. He smiles, and she smiles, and all is forgiven.
She leans over the table again, but this time it's to kiss him.
-
"That sounds pretty fun," Nathan says. His eyes lock with Peyton's and she glares at him, and he wonders if she was just reliving the same moment, or another moment they spent at that now-closed diner when they were 16.
"Come with us!" Lily cries. She looks up at him - the height difference is staggering - and smiles. Her front tooth is missing, and she looks pretty cute, he has to admit. He's never really loved kids. He's got a soft spot for this one.
"Maybe some other time," he says. She puts on a pout and he wants to laugh at her. Peyton looks slightly disappointed too, but he thinks that's all in his head. "I have a doctor's appointment."
"Oh," Lily says quietly. "Are you okay?"
"Yup. I'm fine. We're just going to do some exercises for my foot," he says, and she looks down at his foot. She puts her tiny little foot, encased in a white Nike tennis shoe, right up next to his. It's about a third of the size, and it makes her smile up at him.
"Your foot looks good to me," she says innocently. They all laugh and Peyton rests her hand on Lily's shoulder.
"We'll just have to eat all the fries ourselves," Peyton says. She shoots a wink to Nathan, and he smirks at her in that famous way. "Lil, run in and get us a table, okay?" She gestures to the diner next to them, and Lily heads for the door. "Right by the window where I can see you!"
"'Kay!" Lily calls back.
"You're kind of great with her," Nathan notes as they watch Lily pull out her chair and sit down.
"We're pals," Peyton says, smiling at the girl through the glass. "I've been her babysitter for...ever. Now we hang out sometimes."
"Only you would hang out with a seven-year-old, Sawyer," he chides.
"Hey!" she cries indignantly. "She's seven and a half." He laughs and she bows her head a little, then tucks a curl behind her ear. "Well, don't be late on our account."
"Enjoy the chocolate."
"That's kind of a given," she says, making him laugh again. "Seeya Nate."
He smiles and nods at her, watching as she walks into the diner and sits down across from Lily. He walks away thinking that he loves that she still calls him Nate. She was the only one who ever really did. There's part of him that's wondering if she'll hate it if he calls her Peyt. He kind of wants to find out.
----
He watches her from the bar, and she's laughing with a guy he doesn't know. He's never seen the guy before, and he doesn't necessarily like the way this stranger is looking at Peyton. Nathan can't really blame him; she looks gorgeous in her flimsy summer dress, her skin shining with a little sweat and her hair sticking to her temples. That was the thing with them - they never needed each other to be perfect. He liked her a little undone, and she was a sucker for him sweaty and straight from the gym.
He has absolutely no idea why, but he hasn't been able to get her out of his mind since he saw her that first day, and certainly not since a few days ago when he'd bumped into her on the street with Lily. He wants to think that it's just that she's beautiful, and she's one of the few people he knows.
Even he doesn't really believe that most times.
"Keep staring and she might come over," a voice says. someone sits in the seat next to him, and Nathan looks over and smiles.
"Mouth McFadden," Nathan says. He holds out his hand and Mouth shakes it. "How are you, man? I've been listening to your show."
"I'm doing great, thanks," Mouth says. The bartender places a beer in front of Nathan, and he gestures for one for Mouth. "How are you doing?"
"I'm alright," Nathan says, shrugging one shoulder. It's not very convincing. He doesn't think he wants it to be. "Who is that?" He points to the guy Peyton's been talking and laughing with for the past 15 minutes.
Mouth smiles knowingly and takes a sip of the beer that arrives for him. "Gabe."
"Gabe?" Nathan asks, turning back to Mouth. Gabe is one of the names Peyton always said she hated.
"He moved here last year," Mouth says. "They aren't together."
"What?" Nathan asks distractedly. He's just watched Gabe brush the hair from Peyton's brow. If they aren't together, that guy certainly wants to be. Nathan can see that. He suspects that Peyton can't. She was always oblivious to the way people saw her, men specifically.
-
He takes her arm harshly, pulling her against him as soon as they're away from the crowd and kissing her in a way that leaves her gasping for air. She tries to shove at his chest, but he doesn't move and after a moment, she's grabbing his tee shirt in her hands to hold him close to her.
"What are you doing?" she almost yells. He loves that she can kiss him like that, then yell at him two seconds later. She's clearly pissed that he just pulled her from a conversation. Literally, he pulled her. Grabbed her by the arm and yanked her away.
"That guy...he was all over you," he says angrily.
"What?" she scoffs, almost laughing. That doesn't help matters.
"He was practically humping your leg!"
"Nathan," she says. This time, she actually does laugh, and he squeezes her hips. "Don't be crazy."
"I'm not. You're...you're so sexy and all these guys...they look at you like that and it makes me crazy," he admits. His voice has softened, and he thinks he might be being sincere or something. It doesn't happen often. It only ever happens with her.
"I don't care," she insists.
"I do!" he almost shouts. She smiles up at him. She's mocking him. "You're mine."
"I know that," she says. This is normally the part where she'd get pissed and bitch him out for 'treating her like property'.
"I want them to know it too," he says quietly.
"So let's leave together."
The glint in her eyes has him kissing her again, then letting her lead him by the hand towards the front door of the house they're at. She's his, he's hers. That's just how they want it.
-
"He came to town to run the studio after Dave left for L.A.," Mouth explains. That'd be why Peyton would be drawn to him, he's into music.
Nathan doesn't say anything, he just downs his beer. Mouth watches in amusement; it's about time this town had a little old school drama, and he's not surprised that it's a Scott that's going to create it. Nathan sets his empty bottle onto the bar and he doesn't say a word before getting up, grabbing the cane he's really starting to hate, and starting off towards Peyton.
She smiles when she sees him - she hadn't realized he was even at Tric - and sets her hand on her hip as though she were seeing him for the very first time in years. Gabe notices, but he watches only Peyton, not the guy she's looking at. Nathan thinks he's going to get that amazing sense of smug satisfaction (a feeling that's so familiar to him) when she walks away with him, leaving this skinny-jeans-wearing guy alone.
He could play this one of two ways, if you want to break it down. He could walk over, lean down, say something flirty in her ear, and rest his hand right above her ass as they walk away. Or he could walk over, smile, ask her how she's doing, and speak softly enough that it forces her to ask if they can go somewhere quiet to talk.
Yeah, he's done this kind of thing once or twice before.
But with Peyton, he decides to do an interesting combination of his two fail-safe tactics. Once he's standing there in front of her, her eyes are on only him. He doesn't touch her, though he'd usually place his hand on a woman's hip in this situation. He leans over, speaking right next to her ear, and he says, "hey."
"Hey," she mouths. He's not sure if she's speechless, or if she just knows he won't really hear her over the music. Either way, the way she smiles after she utters that one syllable lets him know that he's leaving with her.
As her friend. Only her friend.
"I'm just heading out. I thought I'd say hi," he says, speaking loudly enough that she can hear him over the music.
"Don't go!" she cries.
"Naw. I'm getting tired," he says. It's not really a lie. He glances down at his ankle for good measure, and she nods knowingly. He smiles a goodbye, but she reaches out and places her hand on his arm just as he's started turning away.
"Nate?" He looks at her like he's surprised, though he really isn't. "Can I walk you home?"
He smiles a little wider in triumph at getting what he wanted, and because since he walked over, it's like Gabe doesn't exist. Nathan isn't - necessarily, completely - possessive, and even if he was, Peyton isn't his to feel jealous over. And yet there's a satisfaction in knowing that this other guy isn't even on her radar.
Nathan is very well aware how stupid it is for him to think that after so many years away, when he's been back just over a week.
He nods his head and gestures with his cane towards the exit, and she laughs a little, but walks ahead of him. He checks her out, not caring to be discrete, as she walks in front of him, and the light green fabric of her dress clings to her hips and her waist and her everything, and he's almost entirely certain she's never looked sexier. Maybe no one's ever looked sexier.
She walks him home. It's silly, and as soon as they're on their way he insists that it should be the other way around, but she calls him sexist, and they both start laughing. It's a slow pace, since his foot is still tender and he can't move too fast, but she likes it that way. Just the two of them and the cicadas and the sticky night air, heading for his home. It feels kind of right. She wishes they were holding hands or something.
They talk about things. Just things. Stuff they've missed in the previous however many years. He tells her about playing in the playoffs, meeting all his favourite players, and getting a shoe deal - just like he always said he would - and she isn't lying when she quietly tells him she's proud of him. She tells him about her job and how it came to be and how she sells her art through a gallery in Raleigh. He isn't lying when he says he's proud of her, but she scoffs and shakes her head like she doesn't believe him.
He loosely grasps her wrist with his free hand, and she looks him in the eye as he says, "I mean it."
It's too late, and he won't let her walk home alone, though she insists she's been doing it for years, and he knows that. He tells her she's his first real guest in his big four bedroom home, and that the guest suite is all hers.
He walks her to the bedroom that will be hers for the night (even as he's doing it, he realizes that he doesn't bring women home to have them sleep in a separate bed than him) and he tells her he'll be right back. When he returns, she's got her hair pulled up off her neck into a ponytail, held in place by her fist. Her back is to him, and he just watches her for a second, trying to figure out if he just wants a girl or if he wants Peyton. He's leaning towards the latter when she turns around and smiles at him, dropping her hair so it swishes around and over her shoulders.
He hands her a tee shirt to sleep in, and it's his. Licensed merchandise with his name and number on the back. She smiles at him and they embrace, saying goodnight with the moonlight pouring in the room through the open doors, letting the night air in off the second-story balcony and reminding them both of all they love about this little town.
She always used to sleep in his Ravens tee shirts. She loves that they both remember that.
----
-
"Nathan," she whispers into his ear. He doesn't move. The boy sleeps like a rock. "Nathan." She shakes him a little bit, and when he doesn't wake, she lets out a frustrated sigh - she's gone to all this trouble, and he needs to get up. She balls her fist and punches his arm. "Nathan!"
"Ow!" he cries sleepily, rubbing his arm. "What'd I do?"
"You were sleeping."
"Oh. Sorry?" He forms it like a question; he hadn't realized sleeping would get him in trouble. He wipes the sleep from his eyes and sees that she's wearing his tee shirt over a pair of little black shorts, and God, does he love summer. "What's on your face?"
"Jam, maybe? I dunno. Get up," she says flippantly, brushing her cheek with the back of her hand. She stands and puts her hand on her hip, rolling her eyes when he leans back on his elbows and checks her out from head to toe.
She's done something cute. He can tell already.
"Make me," he grumbles, just to be a pain in her ass. After all, she's the one who woke him up. Violently.
"Can we just skip all the sexual innuendo and get right to the you getting your ass out of my bed?"
He laughs and stands up, and he kisses her quickly as she slips her hand into his. She leads him downstairs to the kitchen, where she's set the table and has a full breakfast waiting. Eggs - scrambled with red and green peppers, just the way he likes them - extra-crispy bacon, toast with blackberry jam, orange juice, coffee, and some yogurt thing that she'll probably like more than he will. But she's gone all out. She doesn't cook much, so he knows how big a deal it is.
"Happy 16th birthday, baby," she says, letting him pull her in front of him so he can kiss her.
Later that night, he returns with the brand new SUV his parents have given him, and they go for a drive on back country roads, though it might not be entirely legal for him to be driving yet. She doesn't ask. She just holds his hand over the center console and lets him listen to obnoxious rap. She loves that she's the first person ever in that car with him.
He tells her the breakfast she made him was a better gift. The scariest thing is that he thinks he might actually believe it.
-
She's sitting in his kitchen with a mug of coffee in her hand, just inches from her lips, and flipping through the current issue of Sports Illustrated that had been sitting on the coffee table in the living room. Nathan walks downstairs, definitely not expecting her to still be there, and most certainly not expecting her to still be wearing that shirt. She's found a pair of boxers, he notices. He thinks that might make the whole ensemble even sexier.
But it's his thinking that she would have left already that has him walking around in just his boxers.
He's about to say something, to pull her from the magazine she reads, but he notices that there are eggs and bacon on the stove. He has to smile to himself.
"Hey," he says. She flinches, having not even known he was there, and her coffee sloshes in the mug, a little bit of it spilling over onto the table. "Sorry."
"You scared me," she tells him, anxiously awaiting her heart rate to return to normal. With him standing there all shirtless and sexy, she's not sure that'll be anytime soon. "Good morning."
"'Morning."
"I made breakfast."
"I can see that," he says. He walks over to where she's got a plate waiting for him, and he dishes some food out. "How long have you been up?"
"An hour, maybe? I was hungry. I hope that's okay," she says, almost afraid that she's overstayed her welcome, or that he'd be put off by her making herself at home in his home.
"You know I'll never turn down breakfast," he tells her. She smiles and nods her head. "You ate already?"
"Yeah, I kind of skipped dinner last night. I was drinking on an empty stomach," she admits sheepishly. They both know that's never a good idea.
"You should have said something."
"Why? You cook?" she asks, raising her brow.
"Actually, I do," he says. She looks genuinely surprised. His idea of cooking used to be to dial out for pizza. "You want to sit outside? I love my deck."
"Sure," she says.
They step outside through the wall of windows and opening doors, and he gestures to the place where his table and chairs are set up. He's got a hot tub, amazing pool, barbecue, outdoor fireplace, and a weight rack set up. She can see why he likes it so much.
"What do you think?" he asks.
"I think this is probably why you bought the house," she says, and they both laugh as they sit down. "It's awesome, Nathan. Your whole place is. I always loved this house."
"Always?" he asks with a laugh. "It was built three years ago."
"Well then I've loved it for three years," she says. "This is a great neighbourhood."
"I like it," he says. "It's quiet, you know? Boston was great, but I lived in this massive penthouse condo."
"Boo hoo," she mocks, rolling her eyes. She's still smiling. He loves that smile.
"I just mean that...I dunno. Looking back, I guess it wasn't really me."
She nods and watches as he bites into his food. He looks at her appreciatively - her own cooking skills have improved over the years, too - and she takes a sip of her coffee to hide nerves that probably shouldn't be there.
"Have you thought about what you're going to do now?" she asks delicately.
"First step is walking without the cane," he grumbles. She laughs, and he has to grin. "I don't really know. I'm still getting paid until my contract is up. That's the way it works."
"So how long is that?" she asks. She knows. She's followed his career, but she doesn't want him to know that just yet. Maybe ever. She doesn't know what's wrong with her.
"Four years," he says. "But I can't just sit around. I need something to do."
"You'll figure it out," she says sincerely, using that encouraging tone of voice she always had for when she was reassuring him. He'd always loved when she did that.
She stays for another hour and they catch up a little more. They haven't been together one on one, and it's nice, she thinks. They can talk candidly, and they do, and it's just nice. It feels like it used to between them, but without all the anger and teenage arrogance and confusion. He brushes up against her accidentally when she's tidying the kitchen - she's insisted on it - and she realize that all that sexual tension is leftover. That's still there.
She likes that it is.
----
She paces her living room floor. It's been two days since she's seen him. He's all she can think about. They made tentative plans. They said they'd do dinner. All she wants to do is kiss him. Over and over and over again. The craziest part is that she felt the exact same way as a 15 year old.
-
"IthinkIlikeNathanScott," she blurts quickly as soon as Brooke has answered the phone.
"I know," Brooke says. She doesn't even sound surprised at all.
"What?"
"Please, Peyton. You two have been having eye sex for like, weeks. The boy has wanted you since last year."
"So!" Peyton cries.
"So you're finally realizing that he's the hottest guy in school, and the star ball player, and he wants you. Out of everyone, he wants you," Brooke explains.
"I shouldn't want him," Peyton says, flopping back on her bed.
"It's okay that you do, though. You know that, right?" Brooke asks gently.
-
She picks up the phone and she does the same thing she did 10 years ago. She calls Brooke.
"Hi!" Brooke chirps. "I was just thinking about you. That's so weird."
"What were you thinking?" Peyton asks.
"Just that we hadn't talked in a week and I should call you."
"Oh."
"What's wrong?" Brooke asks. "And don't say nothing. You sound weird."
"Not weird just..."
"You met a boy!" Brooke gasps, like it's just that obvious.
"Sort of?"
"Sort of. What does that mean? You either did or you didn't," Brooke says.
"He just moved here," Peyton says, really hoping that Brooke is up on her Tree Hill gossip. After all, Peyton is the one that keeps her in the loop, and she mentioned Nathan's return the last time they spoke.
"He just mo...Oh, wow," Brooke says as she clues in. "Deja vu!"
"I know," Peyton groans. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Is he single?" Brooke asks.
"Yeah."
"You're supposed to sleep with him," Brooke says, like it's a no-brainer.
"Brooke!"
"Are you saying you don't want to?" Brooke challenges. Peyton can practically her the smile on her best friend's face.
"No," Peyton admits quietly.
"So go for it."
"I'm hanging up," Peyton says after a moment.
They say their goodbyes and Peyton lays back on her sofa. It's not that she needed Brooke's permission or anything, but having someone tell her that it's not a horrible idea to get involved with her ex-boyfriend is exactly what she needed.
Truthfully, she already knows it isn't a horrible idea.
Now she just wonders what he's thinking.
----
If the whole thing isn't enough of of a deja vu, as Brooke pointed out, Lucas calls Peyton one day when she's on the other line with Nathan. Nathan called her to say that he knows this great singer from Boston who might be into doing this arts festival Peyton's planning. The entire conversation, she's been wondering if maybe he just wanted to talk to her. She's been keeping herself from picking up the phone all week.
Lucas has just called to chat, and she spends a minute talking before telling him she has to go. She leaves out the part about Nathan waiting on the other line.
"Hey. Sorry about that," she says after clicking back on with Nathan.
"No problem."
"It was Lucas," she explains.
"Oh."
He really doesn't know why he cares. He shouldn't. Lucas is in New York, and apparently seeing some girl. Nathan knows that Peyton isn't interested in Lucas. Anymore. He hopes. Fuck. He feels like he's 16, and watching her walk away with Lucas talking about music, while he stands in the gym with a ball in his hands, trying to figure out where he went wrong. Maybe he never did go wrong. He wonders if Lucas was ever right either.
"He just wanted to talk," she says casually. "So...let's hang out."
He laughs. He's an idiot. He has no reason to be jealous. "I don't have a choice in this, do i?"
"Nope."
"Just like old times, then," he jokes.
"Hey!" she cries. "You could eat alone."
"So our hang out is now a dinner?" he asks, using his best charming tone and wearing a smirk though she can't see it.
"Is that a problem?" she challenges. He can almost picture her putting her hand on her hip and raising her eyebrow, just daring him to argue with her. He's not stupid enough to even try now, not like he did the first time around.
"Not at all," he insists.
-
"Want to come over after practice?" she asks as they walk to the gym, him in his practice jersey and shorts, and her wearing sweat pants and a tank top.
"Um...are you sure?" She looks at him questioningly, and he smirks. "I mean, one on one time? We don't do that kind of thing."
He's right. It's the very beginning, just after they've stopped 'hating' one another, and they've only hung out in groups or at parties. He's only ever kissed her cheek or her forehead - definitely not the kind of guy he normally is - but he definitely wants more than that.
"Are you saying no?" she inquires, her eyes shining.
"No," he says softly. He winks at her as they walk through the doors, then he jogs away from her.
They have their first kiss that night. She's making hot chocolate to drink while they watch a random basketball game, and he walks up behind her and rests his hands on her hips. He doesn't say a word, and she turns around and places her hands on his chest. He leans down and presses his lips to hers, and he feels something, like a surge of affection, and he wants to say damn the basketball game and go straight to her bedroom. He realizes, however, that he likes her too much to rush anything.
He doesn't know when he's become this guy. He assumes right around the moment he placed that pencil in her palm in the hall at school that day.
-
She's not ready when he shows up at her house, and he's not really surprised. She shouts for him to come in, that she'll just be a couple minutes, and that she's sorry. He just laughs to himself - she was never ready on time - and steps into her living room, looking around at photos and paintings and whatever else until she walks out.
There are photos of her with everyone they seem to know. Brooke, Lucas, Brooke and Lucas, Skills, Mouth, etc, etc. There's one of she and Lily that he smiles at, and even one of her with his mom. There's no photos of the two of them. He wants there to be. He hates himself for suddenly turning into this guy. But maybe it's not so sudden. Maybe he always was this guy, he just didn't know how to be. Or something. His train of thought is interrupted when Peyton comes down the hall.
She's wearing a black dress with thin little straps. He doesn't really care about the rest of it. it's cut just below the knee, and she's wearing heels, and it's just all good in his eyes. Her hair is kind of half pulled up, and her eyes are so green it's almost shocking.
"Hi," she says, though her heart is racing rapidly because of the way he's staring at her.
"Hi," he chokes out. "You look...really good." He hates himself for a second. Is that the best he can come up with? "Beautiful."
"Thanks," she says quietly. She looks him up and down, his black pants and black button-down making him look amazing, and then her face lights up. "No cane!"
He laughs. "Got the all clear this morning."
"That's awesome, Nate," she says sincerely. He nods and smiles, and there's a moment when she thinks they might be kids again, completely unsure of what they feel for one another and what that all might mean. "Well, I'm starving."
"Me too." He pulls the door open and gestures for her to step outside. "After you."
She walks past him, and she can smell his cologne, and he can smell her perfume, and she's almost positive that everything's changed. Not only from the way it used to be between them, but the way it's been in the last couple weeks. It's not just in her head. This is a date. The way Nathan rests his hand on her back as she locks her front door behind them tells her that. He holds the car door open for her, and he turns the radio down so they can talk as they drive to the restaurant he's picked.
When he orders a beer and she orders the same, he smiles at her across the table. The rest of the evening is amazing. She steals bites of food off his plate, then offers up some of her own, and they laugh and talk like he hasn't been gone for seven years and she hasn't been here alone the whole time. She tells him about a couple relationships - one of which lasted almost two years - and he hangs on her every word.
He doesn't kiss her at the end of the night. He doesn't kiss her, because he thinks that's exactly what she wants him to do.
----
She's the first person he seeks out when he secures his new job. They've been kind of hanging out. Nothing serious, just your average, every day spending time with one another. It's not even usually planned. She'll show up with pizza and beer and tell him what channel the baseball game she wants to watch is on. He'll show up at her place on weekend mornings with coffee and croissants, and she'll grumble that she hates him for waking her, but it'll be 10:00, so she can't really be mad. They'll walk the beach or just hang out at Tric.
They're friends. He wants more and she wants more, but neither knows it. He doesn't want to make a move and ruin this cool thing they have, and she's not exactly an open book when it comes to her emotions.
-
They start saying they love each other without ever saying it. Or at least that's what she knows she's doing. She'll say that she loves watching him play or that she loves the way he he always just walks into her house and heads to her bedroom unannounced. He'll say he loves the way she wears those jeans she bought with him that time or that he loves that she leaves her door unlocked for him.
They never just say I love you.
-
"Guess what?" he says into the phone as soon as she's picked up.
"What?" she asks distractedly. She's at the office and while it's the end of the day, she's trying desperately to get everything done. Her phone has been ringing off the hook all afternoon.
"Is this a bad time?"
"Um...no. Not really. Sorry. I just...What's up?" she says. She winces when she realizes she's rambling. She hopes that he doesn't notice her complete change in demeanor once it really hit her who was calling.
"I got a job," he tells her.
"What!? Nathan!"
"Yup. I'm the new head coach of the Tree Hill Ravens," he states proudly.
"That's amazing!" she cries. "Nate. That's...Oh, my God!"
"Okay, you're more excited than I am," he says with a laugh.
"Whatever. We're going out to celebrate. Pick me up at 7:00." She surprises even herself with her own confidence. Sure, they're friends, and that shouldn't sound like some shady proposition. She almost wishes it was one. She wonders if she could make it into one.
"Sure," he says simply. He was going to suggest the same thing. He's glad she did it first.
They end up at Tric after eating dinner at a casual little restaurant on the pier. It's hot, and she's wearing just jeans - really sexy ones that drive him crazy - and a black tank top with an interesting back. It shows off her shoulder blades and proves she isn't wearing a bra, and it kind of makes him want to just take it off of her. He's getting ahead of himself. He doesn't even know if she wants that. He sure as hell does.
Her ponytail swings against his arm as she dances in her seat beside him, and it's very apparent by about 11:00 that they've had too much to drink. They've been sipping beers for a couple hours, and Peyton's cheeks have that adorable pinkness to them that they always used to get when she'd had a couple too many. He couldn't even count how many times he's wanted to just grab her and kiss her. The more he has to drink, the more he thinks it's ridiculous that he hasn't. Sure, she's his friend, and blah, blah, blah, but whatever. He wants her, and he won't be happy until he has her. It's not just a physical thing. He has feelings for her.
He's thinking about feelings. That's how serious he is about her.
"Come on," she says into his ear. She drapes her hand over his shoulder, and her breath tickles his ear. He rests his hand on her waist to steady her or something, and she says, "let's go to the beach."
He pays the tab, though she argues that she should be buying the drinks since they're celebrating his accomplishment, but he shoots her a look and she rolls her eyes. She should have known she wouldn't win. They stumble down the steps, and she doesn't hold his hand but she really wants to. He's wearing her favourite shirt of his - a navy blue polo - and a pair of jeans and white sneakers. She can see his blue eyes, even in the dark, and it's all she can do not to just tell him how she feels.
She settles on slipping her arm through his as they walk towards the water. It's not even really that close, but neither cares, and neither has anyplace to be. It's a Friday night, so they don't have to wake up early in the morning. Peyton lets herself, very briefly, wonder if they'll wake up together. And it just got a lot hotter outside.
He talks about how coaching might be perfect for him, and how Tree Hill might have already given him more than he expected it to, and she's about to ask what that means when he looks over and gives her a smile so perfect that it literally stops her breath for a second.
They find the 'perfect spot', the one they always used to go to as teenagers, and they sit down. Within minutes, she's laying on her back looking up at the stars as she listens to the waves.
He wants to tell her she's beautiful. She breaks the silence before he can.
"What happened to us, you know?" she asks, her voice suddenly making her sound more sober than he knows she is.
He looks over at her before laying down so he's next to her with only inches between them. "Fame. Infamy. Loneliness. At least for me."
"No," she says, shaking her head from side to side. "No, I don't mean that. I mean...What happened to us?"
If he didn't know any better, he'd think she meant that maybe they were meant to be or something.
"We sucked together," he says, shrugging his shoulder. "I was a bastard, and you were a bitch." She laughs, despite the harsh words, because they're kind of true. "We were too similar. Or not similar enough. I dunno."
"Yeah," she whispers.
"And you broke up with me, not the other way around." He says it like a fact, because it is one. He hadn't wanted to break up, she'd insisted on it. He's aware that's kind of the way it works, but still. He knows he wasn't a great guy, and she was better off without him. He just didn't want to be without her; not at the time.
Not really now, either.
"You didn't love me," she says, as though that explains everything.
He turns to her and looks at her like she's crazy. "Yes I did."
Her eyes meet his and she looks genuinely surprised. "You never told me that."
"I was scared," he admits quietly. "Knowing you, you would have told me to fuck off or something." She laughs heartily and shakes her head. "I sucked at that kind of stuff."
"Relationships?" she asks knowingly.
"Basically," he says. They both laugh again. "And then Haley came along."
"And Luke came along."
"And Jake came along."
She doesn't know what he's implying. She and Jake started dating - well, started something - while Nathan and Haley were still sort of together. Or did they? Were they? She can't think straight. She can smell Nathan's cologne, and she can hear the vulnerability in his words, and she thinks that it's crazy that they didn't stay together. She thinks it's crazy that she thinks it's crazy. Her head is a million places and nowhere all at once, and she knows he'll be honest if she starts asking questions.
"What does that mean?" she asks him.
"You and I...at the end of junior year after Haley and I broke up...I dunno. We had something. But you had Jake," he says. He shrugs his shoulder, which he knows is stupid, since he's laying down.
"You never said anything," she says quietly. She looks over at him again, at the line of his jaw and the skin of his cheek, his blue eyes and lips she's wanted to kiss for weeks, and she starts to laugh.
"What?" He looks slightly offended. He's just poured his heart out - at least a little bit - and she's laughing.
"It's just funny. I don't think we ever talked this much when we were dating."
"No. You just always wanted to have sex with me," he says, smirking, though he's still looking skyward.
"Shut up!" She shoves his arm and he starts to laugh. "It wasn't me with the impossible appetite."
"You're such a girl."
"What?" she laughs. Everything's hilarious now, it seems.
"Impossible appetite? I was a 16 year old boy. I was horny," he says candidly. It's not like it's a secret; she was there. "And you were hot as hell in those little plaid skirts you used to wear."
"Shut up!"
"You were!" he insists. "You had that one with the pleats at one side. That thing barely covered your ass."
"Nathan," she whispers. He doesn't know why she's embarrassed.
"At least you have a great ass." He turns to her to let her know it's no mistake that he's used the present tense. Her cheeks go pink, and she looks back to the stars, and he can't think of anything more perfect than just taking her hand in his, so that's what he does.
She takes a breath to steady herself, because even though she's laying down, she thinks she might be swaying. It's probably the alcohol a little bit, but it's definitely the feel of Nathan's skin against hers, and this conversation they're having.
-
"You wanna be my girlfriend?" he asks one day. They're laying on his bed, her reading a book and him watching a game. He's got just his boxers on, and she's wearing jeans and a Dashboard tee shirt, and they haven't talked about any of this.
"What?" she asks. She's smiling as she rolls onto her back from where she's laying on her stomach beside him with her head at his feet.
"You know. My girlfriend or whatever. Just us. No one else," he says, shrugging one shoulder.
She knows he's never had a proper girlfriend before. She loves that she's his first.
She moves so her knees are on either side of his thighs, and she nods her head. "Yeah. I do."
Two weeks later, he'd be her first.
-
That memory comes to her, like the memories have been doing so much lately, and she thinks it's her turn to make the move.
"I have feelings for you," she admits, not bothering to look over at him.
He smiles. He knows she won't notice. She's doing that thing she does when she gets all nervous, and avoiding eye contact. But he smiles anyway, because this feels like happiness or something, and he honestly can't really remember the last time he felt this emotion so genuinely.
"Yeah?"
"Don't patronize me," she insists with a little laugh. She could hear him smirking, and she doesn't like being mocked.
"I'm not. I'm being...thorough," he insists, well aware that it wounds stupid.
"Thorough?" she asks incredulously.
"I want to make sure this isn't the beer talking."
"Shut up." She reaches over and punches him lightly in the side, and he grabs her hand, tugging her arm enough to force her to move onto her side so she's looking down at him. "Nate."
"You've been...I...The only easy thing about my life since I got hurt has been you, Peyton," he says sincerely. He reaches out and places his hand on the curve of her waist, turning onto his side so they're facing one another. "I didn't want to...I dunno."
"What?" she asks softly.
"You and I...when we were younger...We just hurt each other," he says candidly. "I don't want to do that anymore." She smiles and it's all he can do not to kiss her. "I sound like a moron when I talk about this shit."
"No you don't," she says with a laugh. She moves a little closer to him, wedging her leg between his knees. "You sound pretty damn good to me."
"So you're not going to forget this in the morning?" he asks, smirking at her. He can feel the heat of her body next to his, and all he wants is more of it and more of her. He knows they'll have to leave the beach to get it.
"You're not easy to forget," she admits quietly.
"Yeah?"
"Mhmm." She's looking at his lips, and he tries not to smirk too widely. She always used to do that, and he always loved it.
"Good," he whispers.
"Nathan."
"What?"
"Just kiss me already," she pleads, almost whining.
He doesn't waste any more time. He leans forward and presses his lips to hers, and there's at least a little part of him that's worried that it might not be as good as he hopes it will be. But that worry is completely unfounded. She tastes like beer and blueberries, and her lips are so soft that he never wants to not be kissing her, and if it were physically possible, he'd do that very thing. Her hand comes up to rest on his bicep, and he smiles against her lips. He's loving that she still kisses the same way (only better) and she still tastes the same (only sweeter) and she still nibbles his bottom lip just a little bit (only sexier). He's pretty sure that if they were anywhere else, he'd waste no time pulling her clothes off.
His heart does that weird beating thing (he's almost gotten used to it doing that when he's around her) when it seems she's read his mind.
"Come on," she says.
He could ask her where they're going or bombard her with questions, but they've never really needed that, and he knows they don't need it now. They're going somewhere to be alone together, and that's all he really wants anyway.
She stands and reaches for his hand and he laughs, because it should be the other way around. But then again, maybe that's all part of what makes them work. He doesn't treat her like a fragile girl, and she doesn't expect him to be the perfect gentleman all the time. It's best that way. They balance out. He holds open doors and lets her order food first and he usually pays. She rolls her eyes when he makes a crude comment about something, and she doesn't ask him to change at all.
Maybe that's what he likes most about her. His entire life, people have been telling how to improve. Whether in the game or in his personal life and relationships, it doesn't matter. Peyton is really the only one who ever just let him do his own thing. He hates that it's taken him so long to realize that.
But he's here now, at her place, with her dropping her things on the table in the hall and kicking off her shoes, and he's going to take advantage of every second she'll give him.
So when he pushes her back against the wall in the foyer of her home, his large hand pressing gently against her stomach, he doesn't make apologies. She's tough; he won't hurt her. And he knows she always liked him like this. He presses his lips to hers and lets his hands tangle in her hair, and as soon as she presses her hips forward to meet his, he pulls her against him and starts walking them towards her bedroom.
This has been a long time coming. Weeks and maybe years and maybe always. Maybe it was meant to be them, and they just didn't know it. Maybe they needed the time apart and the circumstances that brought them back together.
Who's he kidding? He doesn't care about all that. He just cares that she's laying naked beneath him, looking up at him and smiling like she knew it all along.
----
Peyton wakes up to the home phone ringing, and she laughs a little bit to herself. She's had really no contact with the outside world for a few days. She and Nathan have been in her house - mostly in her bed - since Friday night/Saturday morning, and it's kind of a rude awakening to have the phone ringing next to her head. Nathan stirs a little bit and mumbles something, but he holds her so tightly that she couldn't answer the phone if she wanted to. She doesn't want to.
The answering machine clicks on, and Nathan laughs and says that he loves that she still doesn't use voicemail, but instead operates an ancient answering machine.
"Peyton? It's me," Brooke's voice rings out. "Haven't heard from you in a while, and I wanted to know if you've done it with Nathan yet. Call me back!"
Peyton can feel her face turning red, and she buries it in Nathan's chest as he laughs. "It's not funny!" she mumbles against his skin.
"It's hilarious," he insists. She knows he thinks it's funny because when they were younger, Brooke kept asking the couple if they had 'done it' yet. It mortified Peyton that Brooke would bring that up in front of Nathan, but he didn't seem to care.
"Should we actually have a conversation about what this is?" she ventures timidly. She's heard the stories about his lifestyle. She doesn't necessarily believe them, but she doesn't want to get her heart broken either.
"No."
"Nathan," she says, pulling away from him. The sheet that was covering her, isn't anymore, and he takes a breath upon seeing her bare skin. She wraps herself in the red linens again, and he looks to her face to see her appearing annoyed.
"We don't need to talk about it," he says, shrugging his shoulder. "I want to be with you. You want to be with me. Conversation over. Good talk, though." He smirks when she lets out a huff, letting her shoulders rise and fall in frustration.
"You make that sound pretty easy."
"It is easy. What's hard?" he asks before really thinking. She bites her lip to keep from laughing, because she knows that if she does, this conversation will be over, and she feels they need to have it. "This is why." He gestures between them and she shakes her head. "It's just...there with us. We don't have to...try, or pretend."
He's right. She hates it. But she loves the thing that he's right about, so she lets it slide.
-
"If you'd stop being a bitch long enough to notice, I'm not a complete dick!" he yells at her across her room.
"You just called me a bitch!" She picks up one of her pillows and throws it at him, and he catches it easily, making her scowl.
"You're being one," he says, like it's a fact and she shouldn't be mad at him for pointing it out. "And anyway, I don't see what the big deal is."
"Then that's the problem," she says, crossing her arms over her chest.
They've been in enough fights (too many of them) that he knows that's her shut down move, and now it'll take a lot to even get her to talk to him now. She'll take a couple days, let him think they're breaking up or something, then they'll apologize and make up. He wants to fast forward all that this time and just resolve the issue now.
It'd help if he knew what the issue was.
"Can we just skip this part? You can just not be mad at me, and I'll just kiss you now, and instead of taking three days for you to forget this argument, it'll take two minutes."
"Are you suggesting I just have sex with you and get over it?" she asks hotly.
"Peyton...No. Fuck." He laughs humourlessly and shakes his head. "You're insane. Honestly. You're messed up," he says. He realizes that it's probably not the best way to make her happy again.
"I know that!" she yells. "I know I'm...messed up and stupid and probably just a horrible girl that you shouldn't be with. But...I just...I want you to understand that."
"I do. Trust me," he mumbles, looking down at the floor. "I know you're crazy."
He's smirking at her, and she glares at him. That's definitely not what she meant. "Nathan..."
"Peyton, I don't want some perfect, flawless girl," he says. Again, not the right thing to say. The look on her face tells him so. "I want you." He shrugs his shoulders as he looks at her, and he walks around the bed to stand in front of her. "If you weren't crazy, we'd never work together."
"You are a dick," she says quietly, and he laughs. "Maybe if I wasn't crazy, and you weren't arrogant, we'd work."
"Maybe," he concedes, placing his hands on her hips to pull her closer. "But where's the fun in that?"
-
"I'm still arrogant," he says. She shakes her head and wonders how he remembers that.
"I know."
"And you're still crazy," he points out. She reaches over and hits him, but he pulls her against him and kisses her hard before she can call him whatever name he knows she was about to call him. "And I still like it."
"You just want to make out in the coach's office," she murmurs, settling her body atop his.
"Just like old times," he says, smiling roguishly. She laughs and kisses him so he won't see the blush on her cheeks, recalling that time just before they broke up when they snuck into Whitey's office after a game one night.
"Nathan, are we...This is so..."
"It's just us, baby," he insists, tucking her hair behind her ear.
She smiles and her eyes sparkle a little bit, and she lets him pull away the sheet. She giggles when his hands skim up her ticklish sides - he knows how ticklish she is - and she lets out a breath when he kisses her neck, letting his lips linger there.
It's different now than it was before, and it's not just that they're older and they've seen a bit of the world. It's not that they're more mature and they know themselves better. It's not that she's let got of some of the anger and grief that was holding her back when she was a teenager, or that he's been humbled over the years and not let everything go to his head.
He's going to fall in love with her again, and this time she won't be too afraid to let him.
-Fin-