Set sometime after 4x09 but before the Brathan sex tape scandal –
Peyton and Brooke.

'She calls me from the cold, just when I was low, feeling short of stable.'

It's 3am when she calls, she says she's in trouble and she needs my help. What was I supposed to do? I couldn't leave her in that god forsaken part of Tree Hill, it was a party that hadn't gone to plan. She didn't have her car, and could I come pick her up?

Driving through the streets of Tree Hill at night is a strange experience, like a dead town, there wasn't a single other person to be seen. I began to wonder if I was losing my mind, if I'd imagined the phone call and the soft breathing on the other end. Small and silhouetted by the lights of the house behind her, there she was; she looked alone. Something we have in common then, I guess.

She slips into the car and doesn't say anything, and I don't want to risk breaking this truce between us so I stay silent. I can hear her though, fidgeting, breathing, and suddenly I have to say something because I can't bear the silence, "What's wrong?"

The lights we pass gleam off the dashboard; my hands grip the steering wheel until I can near feel my bones crunch. She still hasn't said anything, so I stop the car, in the middle of the street, and hope that nothing comes barrelling down the road into the back of us. "You know it's only polite to answer the questions of the girl who got out of bed in the middle of the night to pick you up," Great Peyton, being snarky is really going to go down well.

"I'm sorry" It's so quiet, I almost miss it. Her fingers tap out a rhythm on her arm, as I lean over and cover her hand with mine she winces.

"Sorry" I withdraw my hand but she catches it.

"No…" Her eyes seek out mine in the darkness. Brooke: Captain of the Cheerleaders, fashion expert, all round fun time girl here with Peyton Sawyer. My best friend. I watch as her hand curves around mine, fingers tightening softly. She raises my hand as I forget to breathe, placing small kisses on the back of it and I can't wait any longer.

When I kiss her, it's like my insides dissolve. I'm set free and she's the only thing that I can see. All kinds of stupid laughable clichés rush through my mind when I kiss her. Wrapping my hands in her hair, I pull her closer; she struggles to shift over the seats until she's nearly in my lap. As I break the kiss, all I can hear is the sound of my own laboured breathing. She pushes her head onto my shoulder and I tighten my grip.

This isn't the first time this has happened and, as much as I lie to myself, it won't be the last. I'm in love with Brooke.

I'm in love with Brooke.

I kiss her again, mostly to drive that thought from my mind. As she breaks the kiss, she untangles herself from me, slipping over to her side of the car. She isn't looking at me. We drive through Tree Hill until we reach her house, she doesn't look at me as she unlocks the door and slides out. I watch as she walks to her door, as she pauses hope fills me for a moment but then she takes the key from her bag and unlocks the door.

She doesn't look back.

This isn't the first time and it won't be the last.

I'm in love with Brooke.