A/N: Thanks so much for all of your amazing reviews; they definitely gave me motivation to finish the next chapter. Hope you enjoy reading!
Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own One Tree Hill or any of its characters, nor am I associated with Pop-tarts brand, or General Motors.
The high-pitched whining of her alarm clock was the first noise to greet her as Peyton grudgingly opened her eyes to greet the bands of sun running across her bed from the window next to her. Groaning loudly she squinted her eyes against the thought of rolling out of bed. She reached blindly over to her nightstand and attempted to whack the "off" button on the alarm clumsily, as though swatting a pestering fly. Reveling in the now heavy silence of her room, Peyton rolled over under the covers and seriously contemplated spending the entire day just sleeping peacefully. Then the thought of Brooke bounding into her room complaining that she slept utterly too much of her life away, gave her the motivation to pull herself out from the sheltering relaxation of her comforter. 'This is not going to be a good day', she though miserably before heading to the bathroom down the hall. She turned the spotless brass handle of the door while pushing slightly against it. It did not yield. Vaguely confused by the intrusion on her morning routine she tried opening the door again only to be defeated. She let her head fall heavily against the wood, 'much too early for knocking' she though sleepily while a half-hearted groan escaped her throat.
Suddenly the door swung away from her and she found herself quite off balance. Falling drunkenly into the bathroom, a swift security captured her body as a pair of solid arms caught the stumbling girl, eyes still half closed, toppling into him. Peyton gasped at the shock of finding herself collapsing forward into a broad chest. Her heart hammering riotously, her alarm only increased at the realization of having been caught in his arms and quickly erected herself. Her eyes now wide and gaping at the sight of a tussle-haired Lucas, she stared a few moments before pushing him roughly away from her. "Are you always this poised in the morning?" he asked, half-smiling at the look of incredulity on her face. She made no answer but pushed him brusquely out the door, the feel of dense muscles against her palm causing her to pull her hand away from his inviting body as though burnt. With a last glare in his general direction, she shut the door rudely after him.
Fifteen minutes later, she emerged with her hair in perfect ringlets and seamless makeup. Retreating again into her room she wandered into her spacious closet and chose a pair of acid jeans and a grunge band t-shirt to sport around that day. After giving herself a quick once-over in the long mirror hung on her door, she headed towards the cramped kitchen only to find Lucas sitting casually at the small wooden table, munching away at his breakfast while staring at his own hand, clearly lost in thought. Peyton's eyebrows creased at the sight of him, spoon half way to his mouth. "That's my cereal", she stated in a clearly irritated voice. "Huh?" he asked confused, looking up suddenly from his thoughts, and staring instead at the girl standing with arms crossed accusatorily in front of him. "That's my cereal" she repeated. "Oh sorry, I feel absolutely terrible now. Miss one meal and you'd probably pass out from hunger pains," he said with a trivial grin playing across his lips. "Why are you always such a jackass?" She stated more than asked while narrowing her eyes at the boy sitting smirking at her. "Why are you always such a bitch?" he retorted as the grin spread further across his face. Peyton leaned carelessly against the doorframe. "Maybe because I'm always around you", she snapped back. "Hey, it's not my fault you find me so irresistible and always have to be around me. I simply live my life, you on the other hand always seem to barge into the room a few minutes later", Lucas said jokingly. Sneering faintly, Peyton replied, "Funny, really that's adorable that you would think that. But maybe the reason I always seem to be in the same room is because you're 'living your life' in my apartment." she air quoted while laughing coldly at his smugness.
Peyton waited for Lucas' retort for a moment before walking over to cabinets and grabbing a luridly colored box of "breakfast" food. Seeing the shining foil packet she was pulling from the box, he commented, "Pop-tarts? Really?" while an almost genuine smile graced his face. "Breakfast of champions" Peyton replied flatly without turning to meet his gaze. Lucas took the opportunity to run his eyes shamelessly up and down her body without the threatening stare he would have had to endure from her had she been turned around. 'Those legs of hers are so incredible', he thought with a lustful air before reluctantly tearing his eyes from her body before she noticed his admiring gaze. She ripped the glistening packet with her teeth as she sidled into the sitting room, absently looking around for her bag and keys.
"Where's Brooke this morning?" Peyton yelled back to the kitchen. "Oh she needed to sleep in a couple hours," replied a voice that was too near to have come from the kitchen. Lucas now stood in the narrow doorway with both arms raised above his head, offhandedly grasping the wooden frame, with a look of frank satisfaction plastered on his face and eyes fixed on the blonde now looking at him with confusion. "She needed to?" she asked skeptically. He started chuckling haughtily to himself and averted his eyes toward the ceiling before saying "Yeah we were up most of the night…exerting ourselves. She was pretty spent by the end. She definitely needs some remedial sleep" he finished slyly. "All right, all right, you can stop talking now" Peyton cried while shaking her golden ringlets and pressing her palms forcefully into her eyes, trying to push back the unsettling images of her roommate and the boy now standing in front of her from coming to mind. She had the distinct impression that he was trying to get a rouse out of her by revealing such detail about his night. "I'm sorry for Brooke, and her…um yelping, waking you up, twice, no sorry, three times last night," he continued, quite unabashed. Peyton's mouth dropped in sheer horror at the explicitly fine points of his story. "But then…" he started again, now slowly stepping toward the mortified girl rapt with unwilling attention, "…you were probably hoping I'd slip into your bed once I was done with Brooke".
"I'm late" she said as more of an escape than an actual fact, grabbing her keys from the top of the television and throwing her bag over her shoulder. Lucas, still laughing earnestly at her reaction, watched her frantic attempt to leave the room so hurriedly. He leaned his shoulder gracefully against the frame of the door as he asked, "You want a ride? We are going to the same class, ya know". Peyton shot a look of contempt over her shoulder before sneering "Yeah, that's what I want", and quickly made her way out the door to her gorgeous vintage Mercury. Lucas couldn't help but smile broadly watching her storm out of her own apartment, even though no one was there to see his secure smirk. He hadn't planned to expose so much detail. It wasn't as though he enjoyed provoking her, 'okay, that's a complete lie' he admitted to himself. He loved seeing that blaze of fire in her eyes anytime she was heated, especially when she was angry with him. The fact that he could needle her into such a passionate state of emotion gave him a dizzy sense of gratification, and damn was he good at it.
Ten minutes after their little confrontation, Lucas strolled into the jammed lecture hall searching for a certain frizzed-out blonde. His friend Tim walked with him, slightly in Lucas' wake, prattling on about another drunken encounter from the night before. His keen blue eyes spotted Peyton in one of the middle rows, her head bent over her notepad and ear-buds plugged into her skull. An evil prospect beginning to form in his head, Lucas made a beeline for her, as Tim struggled on behind him. Sketching out her understandable frustrations with herself at the moment, and blasting a great retro punk band in her ears, Peyton didn't notice a broad hand pull out the chair to her right and a much too familiar body slide seductively next to her. Only when she caught the scent of his aftershave did she look up from her work. Her lips parted slightly as a gasp of astonishment and fury skimmed through her thin mouth. 'How dare he even come near me', she thought furiously while the beat of her music pounded her head. Quickly pulling out her ear-buds, she asked in a very threatening whisper "What the hell are you doing?!" He made no reply, but Tim, being neither as polished nor as smart as Lucas, said "Peyton Sawyer…" in what he clearly thought was a dangerously suave tone. She raised half an eyebrow before turning her entire body slightly away from the boys. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he'd fazed her in the least.
40 minutes into a deathly dull lecture about the sociological aspect of nonverbal communication, Peyton couldn't say that having Lucas half a foot away was very distracting. In fact, she was at least as disconnected from the situation as she always was. 'Maybe he really doesn't faze me' she thought while feigning attention to her professor. Slowly she felt a cunning warmth creep up her thigh. Looking down fearfully, she saw Lucas' hand sliding its way confidently up her leg. Too stunned to act or to even think in that moment, she let her breath catch audibly in her throat and her eyes close before any possible reaction could form in her mind. Noticing her response, he leaned deeply into her shoulder and brought his supple mouth inches away from the rim of her ear. His uninvited touch was electrifying. The feeling of his sweltering breath against her skin gave her the jolt back to reality she desperately needed. "Get off me you creeper!" Peyton finally cried, turning her head to meet his arrogant sneer and pushing him roughly away from her. Lucas laughed loudly, a little too loudly. "Mr. Scott, Ms. Sawyer, do we have a problem?" the professor's voice echoed in the room as the sea of heads swiveled in their direction. "It's…um…I…he…" Peyton stuttered, her face flustered with the entire situation now. "Nope, we're good" Lucas cut in. He was always good under pressure. "Well then I'm assuming you're volunteering for a quick demonstration of theory" inquired the professor, raising his unkempt white eyebrows. "Absolutely" Lucas replied with fake enthusiasm, "well why don't you two come on down to the front of the class" the professor directed.
Lucas raised himself from his chair, and sensing she was either too shocked or too embarrassed to move, he grabbed under her arm to pull her with him. He sauntered down the steps of the hall while Peyton crept along apprehensively, as though descending into the eighth layer of hell. The professor positioned the two facing each other about six inches apart. Peyton fidgeted nervously with a zipper on her jacket sleeve as her eyes darted from face to face in the crowd. All eyes were fixed on the couple standing so intimately close. A slight pang of guilt stung Lucas as he watched the girl standing so close to him. She was so clearly ill at easy, her anonymity openly being compromised, and it was entirely his fault. "Now, I want you both to stare down at the ground until I say go. Then you'll look up into each other's faces and watch the reaction of the iris in the other's eyes", he looked at Lucas and Peyton for conformation that they understood. Both nodded and let their eyes fall to their shoes.
"Okay, Go.", their heads jolted up to stare pointedly into the other's face. Peyton watched as the black of Lucas' pupils dilated enormously while he looked down at her, studying her hazel eyes. Their gaze chained in pure intensity, barred all intrusions on the moment. "Peyton, what did you see when Lucas looked at you?" asked the professor after a minute of silent staring, immediately breaking the interlude between them. "Um…nothing really, well his pupils got really wide" she said, completely unsure of the answer he was asking for. "Excellent. Who knows why this young man's pupils dilated when he encountered Ms. Sawyer?" he looked around the room for a response, but none came. The uncomfortable silence was suddenly broken, "Because she's fucking fine," yelled a voice from one of the middle rows. Tim, both Lucas and Peyton cringed against his blunt idiocy. The rumbling of many chuckles reverberated through the room. "Correct, in a very vulgar sense, Mr. Smith. The iris of the eye will expand when heart rate increases, causing the pupil to dilate. And in this scenario Lucas' heart rate increased due to the fact that he finds Ms. Sawyer physically attractive" the professor explained causing Lucas to flush, his face positively aflame, but not nearly as much as Peyton's. "And that students, is today's fun and useful social communication fact. If a person's pupils get bigger while staring at you, more than likely you're looking into the face of lust" he chuckled as the class rustled around gathering their books and bags before heading for the door. Wholly sprinting back to her seat, Peyton attempted to hide her affronted face from the gawking stares of the people around her, and collect her things to head home. Her plan was to hide out in her bedroom for the rest of forever, blasting her eardrums to shreds with music.
Lucas lingered in the deserted hall for a few minutes, knowing that he should give Peyton some much-needed space. Though the embarrassment of the demonstration had not quite evaporated, another feeling began to surface in his mind, welling in his conscious. After all, he had been studying her eyes as she stared so intently back at him.