Title: Thin Lines and Smoke Rings

Author: Bynamearose

Rated: M

Fandom: One Tree Hill

Pairing: Lucas/Peyton, Leyton

Summary: "There's a thin line between love and hate."

Warning: Harsh Language

Notes:

Disclaimer: Leyton is not having wild, unbridled sex on camera yet, so, no, I don't own One Tree Hill.

A/N: Inspired by the idea of Peyton and Lucas...sort of desperate to have back what they once had.

and the challenge by Audrey2419

Must include the phrase: "There's a thin line between love and hate."

Must be a minimum of: 1,500 words, but no more than 5,000.

Must include: the song Smoke Rings in the Dark by Gary Allen

And choose a topic: the end of a relationship (Note: The whole 'Not Communicating' Leyton relationship is over - so technically, I did stick with the rules)

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"I don't hate you."

She wants to laugh at the ridiculous notion; him coming all the way to her office. Just to tell her he doesn't hate her. She wants to laugh. And then, shaking her head rather cynically, she does. He looks at her with an unreadable expression. She doesn't know what he'd expected but she knows that wasn't it.

"Well, that's a relief," she says as her laughter subsides.

Her sarcastic tone has an undertone of her previous cries.

She's sure her eyes do too.

"I remember the first time I saw you," he continues softly, as though she hadn't said anything at all, "…All skinny arms. Tangled mess of hair."

She doesn't know what to say to this. Is she supposed to be honored that the memory of her was still there? That last night her being was a nuisance - but today, however, was worth the morning report? She shrugs, turning her eyes to the work in front of her.

She knows he wants forgiveness. She knows he wants his conscience cleared. But, right now, she was mentally exhausted of his way with words. His twisting of the hearts. She wasn't ready for another kiss or another proposal. Or another, "I hate you." She wasn't ready to have her heart break again.

"Guess those times are said and done," she says, the words meaning to be sarcastic and mocking, but, instead, coming out as a plea.

She needs him to stop this. His eyes have a yearning, almost pouting look about them as she drowns out his apologies with sarcastic quips to protect her heart. It just wasn't holding up today. She shakes her head for what had to be the hundredth time that day.

"Peyton-"

"Why are you here, Luke? You don't hate me? Fine. I don't believe it - but fine."

There's a silence and she lets out a heavy breath, only looking up when she hears his footsteps head her way. Her green eyes trail up to meet his sincere blue ones. She raises an eyebrow, affected, but not about to show it.

"I want…I've been an idiot, Peyton, and I need to…"

Her eyes widen slightly as he trails off and she shakes her head again, this time with more fever.

"This is not going to happen, Luke," she denied, unwilling to delve into past declarations of sorrows or change.

"Peyt-"

"What do you want from me, Lucas?"

This time it's said softy.

She continues, evadingly, to look at some of the CDs she'd found in a box in the back. Gary Allen? Jesus, she tries to take her mind the task. She'd hardly ever listened to country. Though, she ignores the shiver his closeness sends down her back…There was one song she remembered listening to.

The loneliness within me
Takes a heavy toll
'Cause it burns as slow as whiskey through an empty aching soul
And the night is like a dagger
Long and cold and sharp
As I sit here on the front steps
Blowing smoke rings in the dark

Oh yeah…that wasn't anything like the two of them.

She just wants him to leave. She just wants him to find Lindsey and be happy. To let her let him go. To have nothing to blame her for. "What do you want from me, Lucas?" She remembers him clearly asking her that same question. Right in this very room.

"You hate me, you wish I'd never come back, and I've ruined your life. What do you want with me?"

He is quiet - and, before long, he steps towards her, taking her by surprise as he cups her hands in his. She looks up anxiously, the urge to run away resounding in her thoughts. Shaking her head, she weakly tries to pull away, unsuccessful as he grips her hands tightly.

"There's a thin line between love and hate, Peyt," he breathes out, his breath warm against her lips - even from the short distance in between them, "You know that."

Her eyes divert, landing on the ground to her left as she tried to ignore the body pressing up against hers.

"Well, apparently not thin enough."

Determined not to meet his eyes, she swallows, her gaze forced into staying. He can feel her eyes on him, tracing the contours of her face as her chest heaves. She is sure his stare is as intense as it ever was but, still, she avoids it. She wants so badly to meet his eyes and her heart begs and pleas for her to.

"Peyton," his voice, husky and soothing to her ears, starts, "Please. Look at me."

Reluctantly, unable to deny him, her eyes interlock with his. They're both so close right now and it's then she realizes that she and him haven't been this close to each other since their kiss and, before then, his proposal to her. Face to face, she can't help herself when her eyes lower to his lips.

She looks back up as his head moves closer and his quick movements bring them only breaths apart. She won't kiss him, she makes the weak argument as she stares back into his darkened eyes. He drops her hands slowly and she realizes she could step away right now - and never need to discuss this again.

But she can't.

He's so close and, God, her whole heart lay in front of her. Just inches away from feeling the most complete she had in weeks and, before that, years. She wants him. And the way he's looking at her right now, smoldering eyes catching hers in a fierce gaze, one neither seem to want to look away from.

"Lucas," she says - and it's rasped so low that had Lucas not been watching her lips, he more likely would not have heard.

He seemed too hesitate action further. She knew she should say something, anything.

But his lips closed over hers before she could react. Resistance against his mouth seemed futile - her body could listen to a single message of protest, not a single non-lustful thought from her brain. Her body melted to his urgent kiss; he seemed to claim her with a frantic need and, while his hands clung, alternating from her waist to her neck, pinning him against her, she trembled as they broke apart. They were breathless, panting and exchanging heavy breaths.

And, yet, as their eyes met, it seemed as though they would go on forever. Their hands never left each other. Somewhere in the kiss, her hand had threaded through his shaven head - and the buzzed hair left to the scalp and her other hand had clasped around the collar of his shirt.

"Peyt…"

Don't say this was a mistake, she internally demanded. Don't leave me here again.

Without warning, her lips reach up to claim his. It was slow and, unlike the heated kiss before, so gentle, he could have so easily pushed her away. Could have easily left it chaste. But he didn't. His tongue snaked its way into the warmth of her mouth and, as though she could not have felt more complete and whole, Peyton's heart leapt at the movement. This time, she gently breaks the kiss, only moving centimeters away from his mouth, his body, and not daring to let go.

"…I need you, Peyt." His voice is deep and husky, barely breaking the air as a muttered plea.

"You can't." A sob almost catches her throat as she realizes what had rose inside to ask herself not to kiss him. After all this, he couldn't love her. It wasn't possible. It was foolish. Fairy tale-like. Heart breaking.

"But I do," he swears - and it's almost enough to push the break down of a lifetime onto her. "Please."

And it's enough to push out the tears that had been coming all day. Her head buried into his chest. Sobs racking her system as she clung to him for dear life.

It's enough to make her feel whole again.

--

"I love you," he muttered against her neck. "God help me, Peyt. I love you so much…"

"Trust me," she says - and it's clear from her tone that she was just as at peace here as he was, "God can't help things like that." He smiles down smugly as she continues. "I know, I've asked."

Sitting up with her, he laughs and with the motion, the thin sheet covering the both of them slips down before being caught by her slim hand. The air in her office is cool - but not nearly cool enough to make them leave their spot on the pool table. His eyes roamed her appreciatively as a glimpse her chest slipped into view for a few moments. It's nothing he hasn't seen before, nor anything he hasn't seen in the last few hours but, still, she can't help but blush at his intense reveling in her body. There's a feral hunger in his eyes, she notes as she turns away shyly, and she has to wonder how many rounds this pool table under them will see in the next hour, much less today. Much less, if he keeps looking at her like that.

"I love you, Blondie," he mutters - and, once again, he leans against her bare back, laying kisses around her neck and collarbone. She tells him she loves him more and he shakes his head while he nips her skin. Impossible, she hears.

She mumbles something indignant and smiles, laughing slightly and leaning back to take his lips in for a kiss. As they part for air, she slowly turns around, pushing him backward and straddling him so that he is lying back on the pool table. "Let me show you how much."