Deadline

Watching with wanting eyes

As she draws on this breakable heart of mine

Locked on me until I want to die

Knowing each step I take is laced with wrong

And this love has a deadline

But this heart would cease to beat if she was ever gone

Since this began I've found his flowing words locked inside my brain, poem after poem being burned into my mind, and now I get to see myself in those words.

(see myself in a new light that I do not like a single bit)

Without knowing I found myself in front of his desk, where those hands had grasped hold of my own on an impulse, throwing that book filled with words that had stabbed right into me.

I was aiming right for that smile of his that had pulled me into this whole mess to begin with.

"Are you just using me, Ezra, to keep those creative juices flowing? If so we should just end this right here and now, because I won't fight for something that isn't worth it."

It was hard to keep all of those warnings, said by best friends (not Brooke of course) and jealous ex-boyfriends, out of my head because I was hoping that they were not about to come true.

(and knowing already that no matter how good it got it was never going to end well)

"I would never do that to you Peyton, never. I can't help what I write, it comes from my soul, from this cluttered mind of mine and right now you are a star player in it."

That damn hand, and attached to it was a smile that had made me melt without trying to (it had to be a damn good smile to do that), reached for me yet again and I did not have the will to not hold it.

And that was all it took for my anger to fade away, it would come heavy but in the end it would always be chased away by a kind word and a smile, and I was smiling back.

(each boy gets a new smile, and this not-really-a-boy-at-all got a stunning one)

"How about you show all those poems that have hints of me in them to me before the world gets to see them?"

Right now I was ready for every word that came from him to be stuck in my brain forever, knowing that sometimes a handful of those can bring more warmth then a hug, even the ones that spilled out how horribly wrong this whole thing was.

(it was wrong to the rest of the world but not to us)

"It's a deal, Miss Sawyer."