Title: Gravity
Pairings: Breyton, Naley, maybe Lundsey later
Rating: Uhm. PG, I guess? I'm never good at this.
Disclaimer: You know the drill, I'm not the owner or originator.
Summary: It's time to come home.
Spoilers/Warnings: Breyton. That means f/f. So. Y'know.
Author's Notes: No beta so all mistakes are mine. I took a little longer in updating this cause I had to go through and edit it a lot, I wasn't happy with it, and I think it's a bit better now. I should really start finishing things before I post them but..eh. It works I suppose. Ah well. Hope you enjoy and sorry about the WIP-ness of this.
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God, it's been forever since I was here. The flight back to Tree Hill had been the only flight that I'd ever really been nervous for. I'm not sure what I was nervous about, or scared of. No, that's not true. I know exactly what has me scared, what's making me want to run from here. Might as well be honest to myself, especially since the whole point of me coming home is to deal with all the things I've been running from. Oh and what things they are.
"Home." I say it softly as I file out of the plane with everyone else. Home. Home was safe and secure and happy. What was home?
"Brooke!" My head snaps up in surprise. I didn't realize I was already...I freeze. Then her arms are around me and I'm breathing her in. Oh. Home. Oh.
"Peyton!" I think if we hugged each other any harder we'd break a rib or two. I think subconsciously that I'm trying to pull her through her skin into mine. It was always so much better than mine. God, it's good to be home. Home. Oh, no. No. She's pulling back.
"God, it's good to have you back, Brooke. My flight came in just an hour ago, and I thought I could hang around and wait for your flight too..." Her arm is draped on my shoulder and mine is around her waist as we walk to the baggage claim. Just like high school. Oh. Shit. What has she been talking about? We've stopped walking and she's staring at me, really looking at me for the first time in years and that thought hurts. I grab her and hug her close. I think I hear a pop from her back before I let her go. She reaches up and wipes away a stray tear from my face. Oh. Oh dear.
"You ok?" It's been too long, I want to tell her. I want to spill everything and lay it all out. Instead I just nod and tell her a piece of the truth.
"Now. It's good to be back, Pey." She smiles and I melt inside. God, my P. Sawyer always did have a direct line to my heart.
"How bout we find some boys to get..." I smile as I lift my hand with a flourish, to let her know that I still pack my bags the same way. She laughs and looks at me. I blink when I realize I can't tell what she's thinking and she looks away. At least we can still function together. Maybe this disconnect is just four years apart. God, how did we, how did I manage that? My mother pops up in my head and it makes sense. Nothing else exists when she's around, just work and this need to please her, to make her love me in a way she never can or will.
"Somethings never change. Did you really have to bring the whole Clothes over Bro's line here?" I smack her lightly laughing. This feels good. This feels like old times, like home. Home.
"No silly! Just...what I needed. You know me, when have I ever understood the concept of packing lightly?" She squeezes my hand before telling me to wait a moment. I stand and try to breathe. I didn't think it'd be this hard, being here again. She turns slightly and waves Lucas over. Lucas. Lucas and Peyton and smiling and oh. Oh. Again, I think? Again. She turns back to me beaming and pulls me closer.
"I asked him to come help with the luggage, I kind of figured that you'd pack...normally." Her voice trails off slightly at the end and I stiffen and melt at the small wisps of breath that tickle my ear. She'd leaned in and whispered into my ear. God, how can she not know what that does to me after all this time? I was worried that I'd lost all my resolve and discipline away from her, from them, but apparently I still had some left. Thank god for small miracles.
"Oh." I can barely manage a one syllable word, but I still feel accomplished. I haven't broken yet, there will be time for that later. I can deal with this. I'm tough. I'm strong. My heart can break again later. It was stupid to think that we were coming back for each other. Of course it was Lucas, otherwise she'd have come to New York. It couldn't have been me. God, how had I been so stupid?
"Hey girls." He's smiling and hugging us both and I'm surprised at how much I've missed this boy and all his heartbreak. He still smells the same. He pulls away and gives us the once over and nods appraisingly.
"Hey, Brooke, you know that thing they say, about pictures and tv never doing anyone justice?" I nod, confused. "Totally true. You look amazing." He pulls me into a hug and holds me tight as he tells me he missed me. Huh. Boys. Still haven't figured them out.
"Hey, what am I? Canned tuna?" I laugh and wrinkle my nose a little.
"Well. Sweetie...I hate to break it to you, but you don't smell like daisies after that flight." I laugh at the look on her face as she swats at me.
"Hey, now you two. I thought we were done with this fighting over me." We both glare at him and he holds his hands up in surrender. "I'm just..going to go get the bags."
"Good idea, Scott." Peyton smirks as he walks away and she's not checking out his ass. Neither am I for that matter. Oh my, how have we grown.
"You aren't checking out his ass, are you?" She's giving me her best attempt at being a cop. She was never good at playing cops or robbers. She always gave up too quickly. With everything, except music, Lucas and me. Hm. I scoff and look at her indignantly.
"Peyton Sawyer. I'm hurt."
