-Note. Ok, so I'm going to be a huge pain in the ass with this writing thing. I decided to do alternating focuses cause...well. I can't help it. So, it's going to alternate between them and the second chapter is now the third. Sorry about that. The chapter title in this is from the Yeah Yeah Yeah's song, Phenomena, and the now third chapter title is from Placebo's song Pure Morning-

You like to think you have this all worked out. Not like it used to be, no. Never again, but something anyway.

You know something essential broke between both of you when lies rushed out of her mouth. Something snapped in her eyes and you knew. You knew before you felt the sting on your cheeks that this wasn't something that could ever be fixed. You weren't sure you wanted it to be fixed though. Maybe it was time to lay this to rest.

Lay it to rest. No, that's not right. You know it won't work either. You may be a cheerleader and bad at math, but you are by no means stupid. You know this won't end, that it can't end like this. You owe each other more than that, after all.

She doesn't know that after she left the house that you gave up, gave out. After five hours in the same position you cramped, after six you passed out. School didn't happen. You knew if you hadn't had such a small bladder you wouldn't have moved for another ten hours at least. She doesn't know you left. Or that you replay that night over and over in your head. You can't turn it off and it eats at you.

All the words were wrong. You know that now. You have no idea how this happened, again. Everything you both said you knew would make things worse. And they did, of course. No one knows her better than you. But she did the same you think. Part of you thinks that that's what you get for letting someone in, but you know better. You hope you do at least.

You think that that's what made this hurt the most for her. Peyton was never good at opening up to anyone, even before her mother died, and after...After she was worse, but you were there and you were in and you used it all against her. And for what? You've both lost everything now and you aren't sure if there's any way to get it, or something close to it back.

All you've got to go on now is heartbreak and loss. You've both stalled now. Maybe stalled isn't the right word you think. After all, there's something, some movement left in you both.

You're thinking of that fight again, what you did the next day, after you both said all those painful things. You crawled out of your room the next night, shuffled into some probably clean clothes and started shoving things into a duffel bag. Part of you knew that you'd regret packing like this, you'd forget something, but right then you didn't care. You just needed out. You grabbed your wallet, some credit cards and checks and you left.

You left. This thought gnaws at you when you walk down the halls, fighting to fake this, terrified of running into her by accident. You waver between anger so raging it pains you, and sorrow so deep you worry you'll drown. You didn't get very far, but it doesn't matter to you, it wouldn't to her either. You made it an hour away, before you pulled into a motel and checked in. It was sleazy and so far below you, but you couldn't go any further, and you sure as hell couldn't go back. You did eventually though. You don't know if she even knows, you both showed up at school the same day. Haley told you as much. Haley. God, you don't know you would have done without the girl. You love her, more than you thought you would, but she's no Peyton.

Every time you walk up to her door, the knowledge that you left weighs you down, even after everything she'd done, you'd left. You left. You aren't sure you could ever forgive yourself for that, or for any other time you hurt Peyton. You swore you never would, you swore you'd never leave, that you'd always have her back but obviously you haven't. You've broken all your promises and you can't imagine why she'd take you back, or why she's looked like such crap the last few weeks. No, that's not true. You know your Peyton, she's no better at forgiving herself than you are, she's harder on herself in fact, sometimes that shocks you, but you know it's true.

It's been three weeks since she opened her door and begged you. You show up every night now, rough and ready, biting her and trying to shove all of your emotions into her skin. It never works, it leaves you feeling hollow, even after she filled you up. It's something though. It'll ruin you both, and you know this, but it's something. And you can live with that. At least for a little while.