apologies for having not updated reign of love yet, life's just been on this side of busy these past few months, what with my dad getting into an accident and all my workload for university. i've managed to take some time out to put together this little one-shot. it's AU and nathan isn't an NBA player /gasp/
the prompt is from owl city's song and this tumblr post i saw a few years ago. i hope you guys enjoy! reviews are love.
i | have a good day today
Peyton's always known that saying those three words was something that Nathan tended to shy away from.
In the beginning, she supposed that it was because he'd grown up never having the chance to say them, what with Dan and Deb too preoccupied with their own affairs to pay attention to him, let alone let him know they loved him. When they were older, she assumed it was because of a fear that saying them too much would somehow make them lose their value. In the end, she chalked it up to just another quirk that was part of who Nathan was.
She never questioned him about it, and she never questioned his love for her. She didn't have to because she just knew. He showed it in all the things he did and said in place of those three words, and they were more than enough for her.
When she makes her way into the kitchen long after Nathan's left for work (being married to a renowned surgeon and as a successful artist herself allows her all the time in the world to finally sleep in), she shouldn't be surprised that he's prepared breakfast, but she still is anyway. A smile lights up her face as she takes in what's spread out on their kitchen island. There's a plate of her favorite crepe with blueberries and creme, complete with a vanilla-sprinkles milkshake and a few blocks of chocolate on a small plate (so she liked her breakfast heavy and she had a massive sweet tooth—sue her). A freshly picked daisy in one of her mother's vases completes the whole ensemble, and though she should really kill him for snipping her prized daisies, she's too taken by the sweet gesture to care all that much.
It's only when she's seated herself on one of the cushioned stools and her first bite into her breakfast that she notices a folded piece of paper tucked beneath her napkin. Unfolding it, she sees his barely legible chicken scratch—doctor's handwriting, indeed—and smiles. There are only six words, but they're enough to make her day.
Have a good day today, babe
He doesn't sign it (it's just like him not to), and she knows all too well what he's trying to say. Later, when she's back in their room again and is preparing to head into the shower, she sends him a quick text. He's in the middle of his lunch break when he reads it, and he knows she'd gotten his note.
I love you too, you goof
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ii | this made me think of you
Today was fast becoming a long day. She'd left the house a little past nine and had dropped by TRIC to make sure that preparations for their Open Mic Night on Saturday was running smoothly before heading over to Brooke's store for what should have been a quick hello. But as it always was with the two best friends, a short conversation quickly turned into a girl's lunch with Hayley. Although she had enjoyed catching up with the girls and trading the latest town gossip, she realizes just how much time the lunch had cut into the rest of her plans as the numbers on her dashboard show 2:19.
She'd intended to head over to the farmers market in the next town over to grab some fresh produce and dairy, and though going now would mean sacrificing her surprise visit to Nathan's office, she (he did, too, she knew) loved organic food too much to not go now. She knows his day is going to be full (she's seen the reminders on his phone) and decides to put off the surprise visit for another day.
When she reaches the farmers market, she doesn't regret her decision. There's just something about being surrounded by so much cheer and vibrancy, good food, music, and passionate people that puts her at ease. Her tote bag is full in a matter of minutes, and her second one is quickly weighing down on her shoulder with all the different blocks of cheese she's just purchased.
She's in the middle of deciding which bottle of wine to buy when her phone beeps, alerting her to a new text. Setting the bottles of wine down to pull out her phone, she sees that Nathan's sent an attachment. Rolling her eyes fondly (he's sent her enough attachments over the years for her to know what to expect by now), she laughs at the decidedly unexpected picture that loads on her screen.
This made me think of you
It's a picture of one of his patients's daughter. The little girl can't be more than four or five years old, and there's a huge scowl marring her pretty face. There's a streak of what she assumes is oil pastel over one cheek, and on her lap is an impressive work of art for a child her age. She's wondering why the little girl is so upset when she notices the smudge in the lower corner of the girl's drawing of a castle. That's what's gotten her upset.
There's a smile on her face when she texts him back. She knows exactly why the scowling little girl had reminded him of her.
How did you like getting cold milk poured all over you?
She's just paid for the bottle of wine when her phone beeps again.
I didn't know touching it would ruin it! God, you artists and your masterpieces are so fragile!
She's laughing as she moves on to the next tent of crates overflowing with freshly picked fruits, memories of a young Nathan dowsed with strawberry milk and looking like a drowned rat adding a spring to her step.
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iii | text me when you get home
It's the day before TRIC's Open Mic Night and she's been running through everything since eight this morning—set lists, the program, the dinner and cocktail menus—everything. She's just a hair's breadth away from collapsing from sheer exhaustion, but there's a certain satisfaction in organizing these things that's keeping her going.
She's in the office she shares with Hayley now, fixing the sorry state of her desk. The brunette had already left to pick up little Jamie from school, and Peyton's glad for the quiet, especially after such a tiring day. She's just stacking some papers for recycling when a disc at the bottom of the pile catches her attention.
Earlier that day, a band had walked through the doors and asked her to listen to their demo, and although she had said she would, she'd shoved it at the bottom of everything Open Mic Night-related on her desk and only remembers the disc now. It's empty of any cover art, just the name's band scribbled across the clear cover of the casing with a Sharpie, and a contact number written below it. Deciding that it's the perfect thing to do to unwind before heading home, she stands up and inserts the disc into her audio player.
An hour and a phone call to Hayley later, Peyton places the disk in the box marked POTENTIAL for bands whose demos are worth giving a second listening to after copying the contact number on a Post-it and leaving that on her desk. While the band is rough around the edges, their sound is strong and their songs catchy. If Hayley agrees with her, she'll be calling to make their dreams into a reality within the next few days.
She finishes some more paperwork before deciding to call it a night. Picking up her phone, she calls Nathan. He doesn't pick up until the fourth ring, and she doesn't realize how much she needs to hear his voice until his familiar "Hey, babe," reaches her ears.
"Hi. I'm just about to head home. What time are you coming home?"
There's the sound of a door closing and a quick "Thanks, Paul," before he answers her. She's used to this routine of having third parties interject into their phone calls every once in a while. Nathan's rarely alone when he picks up the phone, always either on the move or in the cafeteria with his colleagues.
"About that, Peyt, I'm really sorry but I won't be able to come home for the next few nights." She can hear the frustration in his voice, and it eases the disappointment at having the house all to herself for the following days a little bit.
"Is everything okay?" She's worrying her bottom lip, a habit she'd picked up from when they were kids. He's always teasing her about it, and she's always just sticking her tongue out at him in retaliation.
"Not really. There was an accident in the interstate and some of the injured were brought here. We're working around the clock here and all the doctors available have been asked to stay for the next few nights. I'm really sorry, babe." Nathan sighs and she can imagine him running a hand through his dark hair, a telltale sign that he's tired and just wants to curl up in bed, preferably with her.
"Well, aside from the fact that you're gonna miss out on a little something that I picked up from your favorite store, I should be okay by myself until you get back." There's a mischievous smile on her face as she paces in front of her desk, and when he groans, the smile turns into a giggle.
"Don't do this to me, Peyton. I already hate that I won't be able to come for Open Mic Night, I don't want to miss you anymore than I already do."
Her heart warms at his words and she fingers the picture she has of them on her desk with a tinge of longing. "Just save as many people as you can, alright, Doctor Strange? I'll save your surprise for when you come home."
His chuckle sends a shiver up her spine. "You better make it worth the wait. It's the only thing that's going to keep me sane till then."
"Oh, it will be."
She hears the intercom calling for all doctors to the emergency room over the phone and she knows her time with him is up.
"I gotta go, Peyt, but text me when you get home." The unsaid words hang in the air. So I know you're safe.
"I will." I love you too, Nate.
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iv | i just wanted to hear your voice
The night has gone off without a hitch. The line-up is great, the crowd large, and the food and alcohol free-flowing.
"Another success, P. Sawyer Scott." Peyton looks up from her clipboard in time for Brooke to loop her arm through hers. "I'm very proud of you, best friend."
She smiles at the dark-haired girl she's known all her life. "Why, thank you, B. Davis. I've worked my ass off for this for the past few days, so I'm glad it's paid off."
"Mm, I'm sure everyone here will tell you just how great of a job you've done if you asked them." They begin making their way towards the bar to grab some drinks themselves.
Peyton laughs. "I don't think they're sober enough to do so."
Brooke looks at her with a playfully dispraising look. "Don't you go raining on your own parade now, blondie, that is so high school."
It earns another laugh from Peyton, and that's how Lucas finds the two. "Well, well, if it isn't the infamous duo. I'd say that by the looks of you two, a hangover cure should be invented real fast in time to curb tomorrow's inevitable migraines."
"Oh, you shut your trap, Lucas Scott!" Brooke tuts, accepting the hug the lanky blonde offers before turning her gaze on the bouquet of flowers in his hands. "If you're looking for Tutor Girl, she's by the sound booth. You know her, always making sure that everything is perfect." She rolls her eyes before taking a sip of her drink.
Lucas grins. "Oh, these aren't for my wife. These are for you, sister dearest."
Peyton's eyes widens as she sets her glass down. "Me?"
Lucas hands her the bouquet before enveloping her in a bear hug. "Congrats, Peyt, you did really well. Little brother's proud of you, too. He asked me to pick these up for you."
"Aww, best friend, that's so sweet!" Brooke coos, "You've got your husband so whipped!"
Peyton shoulders her and the three laugh.
"Well, go on, read his little love note," the dark-haired girl's eyebrows wiggle before she gets off the bar stool. "C'mon Scott, let's go tear a Miss Hayley James Scott away from the sound booth. Poor guy looks like he wants to wet his pants."
Peyton watches Brooke drag Lucas in Haley's direction. Lucas sends her a look that reads "Crazy!" and she laughs. "Have fun, you guys!" She calls after them. She's just admiring her flowers when her phone rings. She smiles when she sees his name and face light up the screen.
"Hey, stranger, I was just thinking about you."
His chuckle permeates over the quiet buzz of chatter of the hospital cafeteria on the other end of the line, and her smile softens. "Hey, beautiful."
She fingers a petal dreamily. "Thanks for the flowers, you didn't have to."
He pulls his chair to the side to make way for his colleague. "Nah, I wanted to. It's the least I could do for not being able to come."
"That's awfully sweet of you, I might have to go to the dentist soon if you keep this up. First the flowers and the note, and now a personal call from my not-so-secret admirer? My, my, Mr. Scott, you've been a busy man."
His laugh keeps the smile on her face wide and bright, and the bartender who's about to ask her if she wants a refill stops in his tracks, shaking his head with a smile at his boss's glowing state. He only knew one person who could put her in such a state.
"I can't deny that. My girl's a steal so I gotta keep myself on her good side." There's just a hint of too much pride in his voice that makes her laugh.
"Seriously though, Nathan, aren't you supposed to be doing better things with your dinner? Like maybe actually eating instead of talking to me?"
She can see him shaking his head as he shoves the stale food in his mouth. "God, I miss your cooking." There's a pause as he swallows. "I just wanted to hear your voice. Is that a crime?"
The smile never leaves her face, she thinks. "No, no it's not."
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v | you look beautiful
As a general rule, Peyton checks her social media accounts as often as she can. Her art needs advertising and the label needs to have a voice online. Hayley used to be in charge of the latter, but with listening to demos and running after Jamie, she doesn't have time to manage their accounts for the label all too much. Peyton's taken up the role in her stead and she doesn't mind in the least. It keeps her in the loop with what sells and what doesn't, and she gets to interact with potential art buyers off the bat.
She's just closing the Facebook tab on her computer when a new chatbox opens at the bottom of her screen. Grumbling, she reloads the tab and immediately stops her complaining when she sees who it's from.
Nathan's sent her a link to one of their photographer friends's profiles. She drums her fingers on her desktop as she waits for the page to load, and her heart stops momentarily when it finally does. It's, to say the least, picture perfect.
It was a picture from a garden wedding they'd attended a couple of months ago, and she'd worn her favorite emerald green halter neck dress (the one that Nathan loved). She was looking straight at the camera with twinkling eyes, laughing and perfectly content. Nathan looks handsome in his navy suit and he had his arms around her waist, a look of love on his features as he stared at her happy figure.
In less than a minute, she's messaged their friend and has the HD copy of the photo as her phone's wallpaper. She opens her chatbox with Nathan and sends him heart emojis.
I love it! That's one of our best ones yet!
The three jumping dots at the corner of her screen confirm that he is, indeed, online, and a small smile flits across her face.
You look beautiful. You always do
She can't wait till he comes home later.
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vi | i love you
Peyton's always known that saying those three words was something that Nathan tended to shy away from.
But when they've just finished her chicken parmesan later that night and he takes her hand and asks her to dance, looks into her eyes with all the love in the world, and murmurs those three words, she knows that she's the luckiest girl in the universe.
and just because i'm being a total girl right now, the image i had of peyton's dress in part v is here: s-media-cache-ak0 . pinimg 736x / 69 / 71 / a7 / 6971a7574be5f67df1b373e46e3edc0a . jpg