Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to One Tree Hill. Not beta'd either, all mistakes are my own.
She holds her breath as she walks through the doors of the airport. He called only twenty minutes ago, but she's not sure she isn't dreaming. After all, it was surprisingly easy to pack, but she thinks maybe that has something to do with the fact that this once in a lifetime type of offer.
Her breath returns when her eyes meet his. He's there. It was real, and life will be good again. It will be good because he's actually there.
Then again, he's kind of always been there. Through everything, all the sadness and happiness. Only now he's promising to always be there, from this moment on, forever.
And as she's enveloped in his waiting arms, she knows he means it. Every I love you. Every I miss you. Every I want you. He's meant it every single time. His words always have meaning, that is what he get's paid to do after all. From the dark recesses of her mind comes the thought, he's also said I hate you.
He interlaces their fingers, and his grip is firm, desperate her mind supplies. They pick up his bag from the chair he was waiting in, and head to security. It goes by without issue, they've both only got their one bag and she hadn't had time to put on any jewelry or a belt for that matter.
Their flight is only just beginning to board when they get to the terminal. He is still holding her hand in the same very firm manner. Something whispers maybe he's afraid he'll lose you, again. She pushes that errant thought away and focuses on the now. Smiles, when he hands the tickets to the flight attendant, and tells her their getting married.
Once they're actually in the air and after they've had time to let the realness of each moment set in, memories start to flood her mind. But, instead of all the happy memories they've shared, it's the look of absolute disdain he'd given her in the not so distant past that replays over and over.
As hard as she tries to overlook the memories from that night, and the past few months, she can't. It still happened, and it still hurts. Her breaths become shallow and quick as she realizes how crazy doing this is. She thinks of her father and Brooke, and Nathan and Haley, and even Skills. But she looks at their hands and manages to catch her breath.
She sits back and tries to relax. But as desperate as she is to remain at ease, it just isn't working. She quietly slips her hand out of his, hoping he won't immediately notice. His sleeping form adjusts. And suddenly everything she's done since she's come home seems so utterly ridiculous.
He's not the one she wants, he hasn't been for a very long time. She's displaced feelings before. Feelings for Lucas in the security that Jake provided. Feelings for Luke with the superstar that was Pete Wentz.
It's then that she realizes the one she actually wants, and has wanted, is miles away, living with some starlet, or so she's read. Her eyes fill with unwarranted tears as she quickly unbuckles her seatbelt and makes her way toward the tiny bathroom. She has a minor collision with the same flight attendant who Lucas had shared the good news with. Flushed with embarrassment, Peyton apologizes before slipping into the bathroom, her only escape on this flight.
Her heart's been broken twice in the last three years, and she knows that while Lucas is making a grand gesture now, they'll never be exactly right. Not after everything. There will always be the undercurrent of what if's and if only's. He's too recently been dumped by the girl who said yes... she can't help but wonder if he's actually thinking clearly, or if this is just another misguided attempt at having something to hold onto. He's changed his mind before.
She's having trouble seeing how this is really any different from the night he left her. He's still offering something she's not sure she's ready for, but given her past experience, she thinks it's probably better to say yes.
But, she doesn't want to be his second choice.
There's a knock at the door, the same flight attendant telling her she needs to get back to her seat, they'll be landing soon. She pulls herself together and rinses her face before sitting back down. He looks at her with his sensitive artist eyes, and looks like he woke up, and missed her. She gives him a small smile and buckles her seatbelt, as the pilot lets them know they're making the final descent now.
When they land, she keeps her distance, feigns sickness from the landing. Because he's a "nice guy," he doesn't push the subject, instead fills the silence with news about his sister, and his mother as they navigate through the airport. She thinks he's trying to prove that their lives aren't so different, even after all the time they've spent apart.
But as they wait for a taxi, she breaks down. She can't keep up the ruse. She's not strong enough. The idea of facing his mother after all of this makes her sick. Their chance at happiness has long since passed, and this is, at best, a very, very, long shot.
He only chooses her when there is no one else.
The tears come unbidden, and, to his credit, his expression conveys understanding. He still doesn't press her, but she mumbles something about Los Angeles, his book signing, a copier, and producer. The expression on his face when he puts together the idea that she was actually in love with someone else is priceless.
He tells her to take a chance.
She thinks he knew calling her tonight was a shot in the dark, but he was desperate in his own right. For a moment she wishes she could be the one to fix him. But she knows that true strength comes from within. She's still crying when she kisses his cheek softly and says she's sorry after he's put his bag in the taxi. He tells her he understands, wishes her luck, and adds that his offer is still open, there's always a someday.
She knows he'll be fine.
She exchanges her ticket home, for a ticket home. It's three in the morning when she finally makes it to her destination. It looks exactly the same as the last time she'd seen it. She's mesmerized by the sense of déjà vu that overcomes her the closer she gets to the building. For months she'd been dreaming of this exact moment.
She's still staring when she hears her name. Slowly, she turns to face him, half afraid that she'll wake up again. (She always wakes up.)
There he stands, tall and unchanged. Alone.
She's struck with the sudden urge to flee. Her brain, always so helpful, supplies the knowledge that she knows someone who lives a block and half away who gets home from work about now, while her heart pounds at an unimaginable pace and volume. He calls out to her again and she pinches herself to insure she isn't dreaming.
Real. It's real. She raises her hand in greeting and allows a soft smile to grace her features. (He looks so good)
He gives her one of his own smirks, and tells her not to move.
She doesn't know what to do. She drops her bag and sits on the curb, unsure of what's next. Moments pass and suddenly he's speaking her name from directly behind her.
She turns her head and looks up to meet his gaze.
"When I didn't see you right away, I thought you'd left," he states as he helps her to her feet.
She raises an eyebrow at this, and he clarifies, "I have a dream like this at least once a week, and you always leave before I make it downstairs."
Her eyes widen in disbelief. But she manages, "I don't want to leave."
He smirks again.
She blushes and breaks the gaze. It's all too much to process. The dreams, tonight, everything.
"What are you doing here?" he finally asks after a several moments have passed.
"I.. don't really know," she says, realizing it's the truth as the words come out of her mouth.
He simply watches her, waiting for whatever else she might add, looking at her as though he's still slightly afraid she's going to disappear.
She remembers where they are and says, "I should go. I'm sure your girlfriend doesn't appreciate you talking to me here in the middle of the night."
"Girlfriend?"
"I heard you were living with the girl from Sundance," she says as though it were common knowledge.
"Don't tell me you believe those magazines... You should know better Peyt. There was no girl. My dad made all of that up. We were... barely broken up."
"Oh," she says quietly, the grudge she'd been holding dissolving and relief flooding over her. She'd been so afraid the guy she'd fallen head over heels for had been some sort of illusion when she heard he had already hooked up with someone else.
"Does that change what you're doing here?" he asks with hopeful eyes.
"Maybe," she offers. Reading him, she can't help but ask, "If it does, can I come up?"
"Are you propositioning me, Miss Sawyer?"
She smiles and then laughs. Because it feels so good. To be here. To know he's not with anyone. That he hasn't been with anyone else. To see him. Especially seeing him.
He extends his hand and says, "Let me carry that."
Nothing hurts, not anymore.
He wraps and arm around her in a gesture of familiarity as they walk up the steps.
"I've missed this," she says quietly. It's true. As much as she thought she could find herself in Tree Hill, something has always been missing. She'd thought it was Lucas, but now, she knows it was always him. Her aspiring producer. Her charismatic, amazing, Hollywood man boy. The one who put her back together when no one else could, and pushed her away to teach her he was the one truly in her heart.
He gives her a gentle squeeze, and she knows he's missed her too. She can see the door, and she knows she can't go back in there. Not without knowing how he really feels.
"I don't love Lucas," she blurts out at the top of the last flight of stairs.
He freezes, and then looks directly into her eyes. He looks away, but only for a moment.
"I did, a long time ago, but everyday since I've left, you were my first thought, and every stupid love song reminded me of you. I'm sorry I ever made you doubt my love for you, and I'm sorry if I ever made you think I wasn't who you thought I was. But, I love you Julian, I really do, and I don't know what I'm going to do if you send me back to Tree Hill again," Peyton says as her tears begin anew and she's suddenly very, very tired. She slumps down next to the door, and waits.
She doesn't wait long, he crouches down before her and takes her wrists in his hands, and puts them at her side before wiping the tears gently from her cheeks.
"Look at me, Sad Girl," he says gently.
She opens her eyes and is immediately met by his eyes, and memories of the first time he told her he loved her.
"I'm not in love with anyone but you," he says, his voice coming out exactly the same as that day in their bedroom. "And I don't ever want to be in love with anyone else. You changed my life Peyton Sawyer, and all I've ever wanted is for you to be happy. As much as I love the Saddest Girl in the World bit, I much prefer your smile and your laughter."
"So you're not sending me away?" she asks quietly.
"No, and I promise to never push you away again, for as long as you'll have me," he says, still crouched in front of her. His eyes wearing their tentatively hopeful expression.
"I promise to never let you," she says as she flings herself at him, arms wrapping around him so tightly. He stands, lifting her with him, and she whispers, "I don't ever want to let go."
He smiles, and says, "Well it's going to make getting dressed interesting, and I'm not so sure my staff will understand, but we can make it work."
She's smiling too when she lets go. He unlocks the door, and she gasps. The room looks unchanged. She looks at him and says, "You actually lived here? Like this? After everything?"
"Not exactly… See, I was on location for most of the time, so I didn't really have time to move. Sundance award winners are surprisingly in demand," he says teasingly. "And I did consider about letting it go, but with the dreams, I couldn't. I had to have some hope that you would come back."
"Wow," she whispers, her hands running over the sofa they'd purchased together after the cheap one she'd had before him broke. This was, is, their space. It has pieces of her and pieces of him, and she loves it in its entirety.
She feels his arms around her waist and she smiles, another genuinely happy smile. It's the happiest she's been in so long. She leans against him and whispers, "You feel like home."
She can feel his smile against her hair. She turns around, still in his hold (which is loose and not desperate) and puts her arms around his neck. She kisses him softly, relishing everything that he is. His lips are perfect, and his hands are still at her side.
They break apart, and she looks into his eyes, and she knows. She just knows that this is it. This is everything she's ever needed, and ever will need. So she says just that.
He smiles at her and says, "Me too."
And even with the months of separation, and the pain, and the heartache, she knows it is always going to be him. He rebuilt her heart, with a room just for him. And she doesn't begrudge him that, because she kind of thinks maybe that's exactly what he was supposed to do. That, maybe, just maybe, it was all destined to be.
In any case, she's happy, and smiling, and confident that this time, everything will work out. And that's all either of them need.
A/N: Another JuPe story. I keep coming back to this pairing. I think they may be my OTP, no matter what else goes on. Thank for reading!
