A/N: Lucas and Peyton are my favorite couple by far and i thought i'd explore how much Lucas knows Peyton and how much he cares about her. I don't own One Tree Hill or Lucas or Peyton. I just love them to death. Italics are the song and the rest is Lucas' POV.

Song: The Places That You've Come To Fear The Most by Dashboard Confessional

Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself

I hate it when she does that. It makes my stomach drop when she plasters on that fake pearly smile and pretends everything is okay.

Covered with a perfect shell

I know it's not okay and she knows it too but no one else will ever know because she won't let them. She won't let me know either, or rather she just doesn't want me to know. She doesn't want me to know the lingering pain of coming home to an empty house, the searing agony every year when that day comes, the sinking disappointment of everyone rejecting her drawings, or the gnawing emptiness from that piece missing in her heart and the augmenting hopelessness that she'll never find it.

Such a charming beautiful exterior

I remember her at school when I first saw her. She was so beautiful and perfect but I was a six year old boy and she was a six year old girl. Ergo, we weren't allowed to talk. So, I just sneaked glances at her during lunch or story time. She was so blissfully happy and so buoyant. Even then she had an exceptional ability for the arts. The teacher would always hang up her drawings about the classroom. They were drawings of horses or fairies and other little girl things.

Then she turned eight years old and she transformed into a polar opposite. She never laughed nor did she cry actually. She was plainly apathetic but her drawings were the door to her feelings so locked away. She no longer spun colorful tales of great stallions or enchanted forests on her paper. No, she drew dark, lifeless woods with a pitch black sky and deserted, worn houses. She once drew a vivid depiction of the car crash and the teacher called her into the office to "have a word with her." She never drew like that at school again.

Laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes

She went back to the way she used to be. The fun, cheerful, smiling girl I had once known but there was something different. She never quite became her old self. She almost fooled me, though, but I could easily detect the sadistic undertones and the hidden indifference towards everything. She fooled everyone else beautifully; behind that artificial glowing smile.

I let it be for a while. My uncle Keith urged me to get a job after school let out to help my mother. Not financially, of course, but just to keep her from worrying about me missing basketball. So I did as I was told and got a job sweeping the pews at this large cathedral south of town. I did it every Saturday morning especially because that was when the weddings were. On the ground floor, the seats would nearly fill themselves to the brim with proud parents and giggly friends. I would prepare the church for mass on Sunday by sweeping the pews on the upper level so I could look down and watch the pristine event unfold.

I did that for a month or two until one day I noticed an out of place visitor. The cathedral was enormous so hardly ever were all the seats filled during a wedding. In the very back that day, beneath me on the ground floor, huddled a little girl with familiar blonde curls hanging over her face. I could almost see the glint in her green eyes as she silently observed the spectacle.

Perfect posture but you're barely scraping by

I learned, after her third or so visit, that this was her method of coping. At this one place and time, she found herself at peace among the hopeful and tender eyes of the bride and groom. If it wasn't for her weekly wedding fix, she wouldn't have survived. The sudden absence of her father and crying herself to sleep nightly became too much. She watched the weddings just to renew her hope slightly. It was as much as she would get. Nobody ever noticed her quietly watching and that was the way she liked it.

But you're barely scraping by

Just as she watched the wedding, I watched her every Saturday but I never disturbed her or let my watching be known. That is, until I found myself in a sticky predicament.

You see, she usually cries towards the end silently; just lonesome tears streaking down her face finally able to release the pent up despair behind them. Then, she swiftly takes off and leaves the church as discretely as she came.

That day, she didn't leave. Her eyes stayed transfixed on the alter, even after everyone had left to the reception; tears still running down her porcelain face. It was my job to clean up the ground floor after everyone left and the top floor was done. As stated, I'd cleaned every row save hers and I must say I was rather reluctant to disturb her. For the sake of my job, however, I had to. Who knew it would be the best move I've ever made.

This is one time

I set down my broom and wiped my sweaty palms on my filthy jeans two sizes too big as I slowly approached her. She was wearing an off-white dress with ruffles and lace of all sorts. The sort of dress a flower girl wears only she had no shoes and her hair wasn't done up. I shook myself out of my trance and got as close as I could without breaking her personal space rules she made so widely known.

Shaking, my hand rose up to her shoulder and I let it fall, lightly tapping her only to evoke no initial response.

"Peyton?" I whispered softly. Upon hearing me she slowly turned her head to look me straight in the eye. I've never seen such sadness and remorse upon anyone's features as Peyton's that day.

She was trying to hold it in, the sobbing I mean, I could tell she was about to break. As she stared at me with such anguish I could see right into her soul, a skill I've perfected to this day.

This is one time that you can't fake it hard enough to please

No longer hesitant, I sat down right next to her to the point where my knee outright touched hers and she fell into her place. Her head collapsed onto my shoulder and my arms enveloped her bony frame in the best hug I could muster. To my utter surprise she completely broke down in my arms, sobbing and clinging to my ratty old shirt for dear life. She was the first girl to ever break my heart with the cries she emitted.

Everyone or anyone at all

We stayed like that for quite some time until she's let it all out. Her mop of silky curls was contently rested against my shoulder and I dared to speak.

"Do you want me to take you home?" I asked meekly. She lifted her head to look at me with those electric eyes and I could see her mulling it over. Eventually, she shook her head, dropping her gaze to the ground. I thought we were going to stay in the church for another long while but she surprised me again.

Or anyone at all

Abruptly, she leapt to her feet and grabbed my hand. She didn't pull me, but I followed her silently and obediently through the church benches and towards the doors. Before she touched the door handle, she spun around and caught me off guard with her gaze.

This time, I met her with equal power and conveyed my understanding. She searched my face for trustworthiness and I knew she trusted me to never speak of this moment. As far as I knew, for her I'd already shoved it to the back of my mind for safe keeping. Satisfied, she turned back around and proceeded to leave the church and its massive doors closed contently in our wake.

And the grave that you refuse to leave

She took me to the cemetery where she was buried. Falling to her knees in front of the eminent tombstone, she pulled a dried flower out of her dress pocket. Delicately placing it in the grass among the other flowers, she became lost in thought.

I merely watched her, not wanting to intrude on this sentimental moment for her. I did stand directly behind her, though, if she were to need to feel my presence suddenly.

I had anticipated correctly when she reached back blindly searching for my hand. I gave it to her and dropped to my knees beside her. No words were spoken and she didn't even look at me but I comprehended. She just wanted me, or well, someone to be there and feel her pain; someone to understand. I was more than willing to be that someone and forever will be.

Her head dropped to my shoulder again and I let my arm crawl up and fit snugly around her shoulders. I could feel her exhaustion radiating off of her. We backed up against the nearby tree as fatigue overtook her.

The refuge that you built to flee

We both fell asleep, her before me, and when I awoke, I felt the crisp evening air against my side where she once laid. Frustration began to sweep over my senses and I wanted to scream. I was so close to finding the old Peyton! She almost let me in! But I'd scared her with my compassion and ability to read her. Things she was very unfamiliar with and frightened to death of. They didn't intimidate her; not really, it was the unsettling knowledge of the future that troubled her. Something that would trouble her for the rest of her life.

The places that you've come to fear the most

Now that she had me, she could lose me.