I own nothing, not even "Globes & Maps" by Something Corporate.
So, I've decided to continue this. I don't really know where it'll go, but I figured what the hell. Wonderful song!
Light breaks underneath a heavy door
And I try to keep myself awake
Fall all around us on our hotel floor
And you think that you've made a mistake
And there's a pain in my stomach from another sleepless binge
And I struggled to get myself up again
Lucas blinks once, twice, he exhales noisily and blinks a third time. Nothing changes. He lays flat on his back; staring at his ceiling. The days have passed; 183 of them. They've turned into weeks; 24 long ones. And became months; 6 to be exact.
Not like he's counting or anything.
He hears the door open and he snaps his eyes shut; hoping she didn't see him. When the bed dips down and her hand caresses his face he knows he's pulled it off yet again. He does his best to get sleep, but it's hard. He's always got something on his mind and it just causes so much anxiety that his heart races and his head pounds at night. That's usually when it's the worst.
She softly calls his name and he groans before rolling his head from side to side. He can hear her laugh and he cracks open an eye. Blue meets Blue.
"Morning sleepyhead", she mutters as she leans down to kiss him. He wraps his arms around her and prolongs the kiss, waiting – in vain – for it to feel normal. For the past six months he's felt like Lindsey was a visitor in his house. Sure, they ate together and showered together and slept together, but none of it felt ordinary. It felt like he was playing a part in a movie. The biggest movie ever.
His life.
"Five more minutes?" he requests with a pout. He doesn't know why he even bothers to ask for more time, it's not like he'll actually sleep. She shakes her head and taps his upturned nose.
"Nope, you've got to finish packing", she smiles and he smirks while nodding his head.
"I'm a guy. I can pack in five minutes", he argues as he pulls her down and onto her side of the bed. She giggles and nestles into his arms. He hears her sigh contently and his heart breaks a little.
She's a wonderful person and an amazing woman. She doesn't deserve to be silently critiqued or compared to a woman that doesn't even live in this town anymore, but he can't stop himself. Whenever she does something he always finds himself thinking of the different way she would have done it.
"Come on! It's the first day of your book tour", she says with excitement and he can't help but to smile back. He's proud that she's so proud of him.
His book was published and received rave reviews. Critics had practically swooned over it;
"Moody and evocative, Scott's prose sings and his sentiment overwhelms in The Comet. Rich with metaphor and infused with the sort of emotional slow-burn one would expect from a heavenly body, fans of Scott's first novel would need the prescience of Tiresian to see the change of pace coming." – Alan Harwood, author of "In Praise of Older Women"
"Lucas Scott reaches for the stars and ends up capturing THE COMET in his in his meditative follow-up to An Unkindness of Ravens." – Ian Powers, author of "Lucky Bastard"
"A stalwart second effort, The Comet proves that Lucas Scott is a young literary talent that will be with us for some time." – Daniel Michaels author of, "A Billion Miles Away"
"The Comet takes off on the first page and hurtles across the reader's imagination; leaving a starburst that lingers long after the final word." – Bobby Dupra, author of "A Prayer for My Father"
And then there was his favorite one; "Lucas Scott's sophomore effort is a moving portrait of lost love. It will turn even the most cynical reader into a hopeless romantic." – Terrance Cole, author of "Anything For a Buck"
After Lindsey read him that one he sent Terrance the biggest muffin basket he could. It may have seen foolish, but the man sent him a thank you note, apparently muffins were a favorite of his and hoped to see more from Lucas in the future. Too bad the blonde hasn't written a thing since . . . the publishing of The Comet.
"Ahh the tour", he murmurs with a wistful look. Lindsey rolls her eyes pushes away from him to move from the bed. He faces the ceiling once more and purses his lips. He rests his weight on his elbows and looks at his wife. "I wish you were coming", he says softly and he means it. He may be an asshole, but he does actually love her.
"I know", she sighs, "but I have a few other things I need to edit and I won't be able to do any of that if I go with you this week", she says suggestively and he grins. He lies back down, its times like these when it's easy to pretend that Lindsey's the only woman he's ever loved; the only one that's ever held his heart.
"So, what city am I hitting up first?" he asks in interest. It's always some desolate, small city. For the first book it was Omaha. It helps to generate a buzz before getting to the big cities. For now he's thinking Seattle, maybe even Omaha again, so he's completely stunned when Lindsey takes a breath and says;
"Los Angeles."
I wanna hang onto something
That won't break away or fall apart
Like the pieces of my heart
She sighs as she hits the play button one last time. She's worked through most of the c.d.'s on her desk, but there's still a handful left. She's been out in LA for just about 6 months now and Red Bedroom Records has turned into something she never expected.
Along with Mia, she's signed four artists and has two more in negotiations. Then, there are the endless demos that flood her mailbox. She smiles as she bobs her head to the beat of the song that fills her ears. She writes their name down and underlines it twice; she'll be calling them tomorrow.
She takes off her headphones and leans back in her chair. It's late she muses as she stares at the darkened city before her. She stands and grabs her purse before turning the lights out in her office. Her heels click against the hardwood floor and stop when she reaches the desk outside.
"Chelsea, go home", she admonishes with a smile. Her secretary is a bright eyed teenager that didn't feel college was for her. She's smart and intuitive and Peyton feels completely comfortable around her.
"I will", she promises. She tucks a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear and smiles before speaking again, "I just wanna finish this chapter", and she mumbles from behind the book Peyton hadn't noticed until she mentioned it. She puts down her purse and sits on the edge of her desk.
"What is it?" she asks as she leans the book forward; trying to get a better view. When she does her heart stops beating.
"The Comet", Chelsea says with a dreamy smile. "My friends have been talking about it nonstop and I totally see why. It's an epic love story", she breathes out. Peyton shakes her head and stands on her feet once more.
"It's about a scientist and a comet", she clarifies. It's something she's told herself for months. She grabs her purse and starts to walk away when Chelsea's voice stops her;
"It was more then just a comet because of what it brought to his life; direction, beauty, meaning. There were many who didn't understand and sometimes he walked among them, but even in his darkest hours he knew in his heart that someday it would return to him and his world would be whole again and his belief –"
"In God, and love, and art would be reawakened in his heart", Peyton finds herself whispering. Chelsea smiles.
"You've read it!" she gasps. She's been working for Peyton since day one and never has she seen her get emotional or 'girly'. Peyton faces her once more and lets a ghost of a smile form.
"Yeah I have", she admits. Of course she has she wants to say, but the nineteen year old doesn't know her back story. She closes her eyes and lets out a sigh.
The young girl raises her brows. She's never seen Peyton look so fragile before and doesn't understand why this book would do that. "I don't believe you", she challenges. "Everybody knows that part, it's like the most famous quote", she smirks. "What's the dedication?"
Peyton laughs. She's read the book so many damn times she could easily tell Chelsea what page that famous quote was on, what paragraph, the amount of lines. The dedication is a piece of cake. "To all those lost souls who have forgotten to believe in the immensity of love", her voice breaks off and she clears her throat quickly.
The redhead raises a brow and quickly turns to one of the first pages. Sure enough, there's the words Peyton's just spoken verbatim. She lets out a breath and looks back to her boss. "Wow", she whispers. "Okay", she says with a smile that quickly turns into another smirk, "but you could just be one of those freaky people who read the dedications . . . what about –"
"The editors office is Putnam and Pratt", she says with a stab to her heart. "They're the same people he's used since his first book", her secretaries face is one of shock and Peyton can feel the tears rising for no real reason.
"Peyton, what is –?"
"I'll see you tomorrow, get home safe", Peyton says as she heads for the elevator. Once inside she lets the tears fall silently. She hasn't cried in a while, weeks actually and she hates that she's doing it now. She also hates that just when she thinks she's past something, Lucas Scott pops into her life and changes it all; sets it all back a step. This was the one place she felt safe from him, from their history, but he seems to prove her wrong time and time again. The doors open and she walks to her car; her pocket vibrates and she curses as she reaches and turns off the alarm.
She's late for her webcam session with the Scott's.
And globes and maps are all around me now
I wanna feel you breathe me
Globes and maps I see surround you here
Why won't you believe me?
Globes and maps they charter your way back home
Do you wanna leave or somethin?
He must be a masochist he thinks as he walks the hall of the Beverly Hilton. He stops in front of room number 425 and takes a deep breath. Lucas pats his pockets and finds the plastic card he had been looking for. He slides it into the slot and the light changes from red to green; the small beep signaling the room was ready to open. He pushes it gently and stands in the doorway as it swings open. He can feel his throat tighten.
The first thing he sees is the leather chair in the corner. He doesn't know how many people have sat in it in the years that followed, but he remembers one person who sat their as he pledged his love to them. His speech about dreams and her and only needing her in his life. Had he been lying then? When he said that none of his great days mattered? Was everything in his life less significant because she wasn't beside him?
He shakes his head so that a real answer can't form and steps into the room. He places his suitcase at the corner of the wall and takes notice of the picture hanging. That same sky seems to float above the chair he sat in as he watched Peyton sleep and he shakes his head. A feeling of nausea hits and he has to sit. He walks to the foot of the bed and plops down.
That's when the memories really take over.
"You're saying no", he breathed out.
"No", she said adamantly as she shook her head. "I – I am not saying no. I'm saying not now. I want to marry you, someday." She latched on to his forearm and he tried to shake her off. Her face fell even more and her voice rose. "Hey, don't –don't do that; don't pull away from me okay, I want us to be together. I love you so much."
"Just not enough", he said bitterly as he finally looked at her. Her breath caught and she could feel the vomit rise.
"Look, can we take this back? Can we just pretend like you never woke up, please?" she begged him with watery eyes.
"I don't think we can", he said sadly.
"I'm afraid that this conversation is gonna end with –"
"Goodbye", he finished.
He lies back on the bed and looks up at the ceiling he memorized that night all those years ago. There's still a crack that stretches from one end to the other and that stain hasn't been painted over. He loosens his tie as the room starts to spin.
He can feel her in his arms. He can feel her silent tears hitting his shirt. He can feel his heart twist and burst and crumble. He can feel it all like it happened yesterday.
"Luke don't", she barely whispered. "Come here", she said as she pushed on his chest to make them both lay down. She rested her head over his heart and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and squeezed it tightly.
"Our dreams are gonna come true, Lucas. My music and your novel", she tugged on his tie. "It's gonna happen."
All he could do was rub his fingers against the velvet of the ring box she never opened.
His eyes burn and as he closes them a few tears trail down his cheeks. Here he was, nearly five years after that night and their dreams had come true. Her music and his novel. So why weren't they together? He sits back up and stares at the lone leather chair once more and he thinks back to one of the last things she ever said to him;
"While I'm asleep I have this dream where . . . we're back in that hotel room in LA and you propose to me. Every single time I say yes."
It was just a dream he told himself, still tells himself. It was only a dream. But it was hers. That was her dream and it would never come true. It could never come true. His pocket vibrates and he pulls it out. Lindsey flashes across the screen and he closes his eyes once more. He hits the talk button and says a lie he's told her before;
"I miss you."
And dreams came around you in a hazy rain
You opened your mouth wide to feel them fall
And I write a letter, from a one-way train
But I don't think you'll read it at all
It hadn't taken him long to find the address. There was only one Peyton Sawyer and one Red Bedroom Records. He stands outside the building, unsure of what to do. He clutches the phone book in his hands. In hindsight, writing on a piece of paper would have been a better idea, but he was too worked up to put the book back down.
He opens the heavy door and steps inside. The walls are littered with band posters and album covers. They're painted a deep red and it makes him smile. It's just like the one in Tree Hill. He presses the button for the elevator and once the doors open he steps in.
It's far too short a ride because when the doors open he stands there in a daze. What the hell is he supposed to say? He shakes his head and steps onto the hardwood floor. He closes the yellow book and searches for somewhere to put it, thankfully there's a small waiting room and he leaves it on the coffee table.
He walks further into the loft and notices the young woman at a wooden desk. She's twirling a strand of hair around her finger and she's engrossed in a book. She doesn't acknowledge him as he stands before her so he looks around and tries to spot Peyton. His blue eyes land on the closed door and he knows she's just behind it. He lets out a noise and Chelsea raises her head.
"Oh my God", she whispers with a smile. "You're Lucas Scott", she says the obvious. He's still staring at the door that has Peyton Sawyer painted on it. "Can I have your autograph?" she asks as she turns to the first blank page of his book and this rips him from his daze.
He's momentarily forgotten that he's Lucas Scott, the author.
He feels like Lucas Scott, the teenage boy.
"Sure", he smiles that smile; the one all women love and picks a pen up from her desk. One Chelsea will never let anyone touch, ever again. He writes her name and a quick note before signing his name.
From inside her office Peyton writes a short note; letter really. She knows Brooke did this years ago, but this is different. She's not writing Lucas everyday of the week. She only writes when he pops into her mind. Like when she hears a song on the radio or when someone else mentions him; which is what happened yesterday. Considering it's been 185 days and she only has 173 notes she feels accomplished. It's a form of therapy really. It's like she still gets to tell him about her day even though he can't respond.
She can hear Chelsea become a total fan girl outside and rolls her eyes. Maybe Fall Out Boy is finally in town and decided to stop by. Not a second later the intercom sounds and Chelsea's voice fills her room.
"Peyton, someone's here to see you", she says with a girly giggle in her throat. Peyton chuckles, if only there was someone to make her do that. Her finger presses the talk button;
"Send them in, Chels", she takes her finger off the button and returns to her original task. She just signing with all her love and folding it up when the door opens. Peyton pulls the bottom drawer open and fingers across the top of each white envelope before placing it in the right spot. She lifts her head and pushes her bangs from her eyes.
"Hi, sorry", she starts as she looks over to the now closed door. Her sentence stops and she can only stare.
She blinks once, twice, takes a deep breath and she blinks a third time. Nothing changes. He's still there, in her doorway. She's thought about something like this happening for the past 6 months, but never in a million years did she think he'd come. He's in a suit and his tie is barely done right, his face is flushed, and his hair is buzzed short. She can only stare.
"Hey", he breathes out. Her hairs straight and her lips are pouty and all he wants to do is pull her into his arms. She stands and he can feel himself tense. He doesn't know if she's gonna slap him or hug him.
"What are you doing here?" she asks with a small smile on her lips. It never fails; regardless of how they leave things he'll always search her out and she'll always be excited to see him. She's approaching him with her arms out; clearly going in for a hug.
He grins and opens his arms slightly. "Book signing", he says simply and she instantly stops. Lindsey flashes into her mind and she suddenly doesn't understand why he's here. He's married; he should be walking the city with his wife on his arm.
His face falls as she hugs her arms around her body. He curses himself for mentioning something Lindsey related. He was so close, so, so close to having her in his arms and he can practically feel her pressed against him. He lets out a loud breath and runs his hand over his short hair; his wedding band glints and Peyton has to look away.
"Where's Lindsey?" she asks as she sits back down. He pushes his legs forward and sits in the chair across from her. This feels too weird. Like it's forced or fake or like they hardly know each other. But, maybe they don't anymore. That thought breaks his heart.
"Home", he says easily. "She has some other authors, a lot of stuff to edit", his sentence isn't complete and he knows it should be; he's a freaking author. She nods and swallows; he watches her throat move with the actions.
"This is the first stop?" she asks suddenly and he tears his gaze away from her neck. "That never happens", she voices his thoughts from days ago. He nods.
"I know, I don't get it either, but I have to go along with what they tell me", he laughs and wants to smack himself. That wasn't even funny. He clears his throat and leans back against the plush chair he's in. "This is a pretty nice setup you've got here", he says with a smirk.
She bows her head in hopes of hiding the blush that rises to her cheeks. He's always been able to do that. "Thanks", she whispers. "It's been great being here."
"Has it?" he asks with a double meaning. She stares at him, her eyes saying everything she can't utter and he has to look away.
"It hasn't always been easy", she whispers, "but it was necessary", she says pointedly. She looks at the clock behind him and scoffs. Ten minutes and they've already opened Pandora's Box.
"You didn't have to leave", he argues angrily. She shakes her head and wants to strangle him.
"So I could have stayed in Tree Hill and watched you walk around town with your wife? Walk all over the places we have memories in with someone that you'll make knew memories with? No way", she says as she stands from her chair.
He stands too and takes an angry stance. "I would never – I will never forget about us", he says as he points at her. She has to gasp for air to fill her lungs at his words.
"I thought I told you to let me go", she whispers with a sad smile. He laughs, but it's humorless and shakes his head.
"That's like asking me to cut off a limb", she closes her eyes and he places his hands on his hips. He hadn't come here with the intentions of rehashing the past or proclaiming that on some level he still loves her, but that's what happens with them.
"You should probably go now", she whispers with her eyes still shut; she's willing her tears away. He takes a step forward and she walks around the other side of her desk. He follows after her and she knows he's about to protest. "I have an act coming in", she places her hands on the metal doorknob.
"Peyton, this isn't how I wanted this to be", he whispers sadly.
She nods and turns to face him. She smiles in spite of how she feels and brings her hands up to his undone tie. He closes his eyes. Her lavender and vanilla scent hits his nose and fills his body. Unconsciously he places both his hands at the small of her back and pulls her a little closer. This feels ordinary. He feels completely normal in doing this.
It's the first time he really let's himself acknowledge that he may have made a mistake.
She finishes his tie and steps back, although she doesn't get very far because he's hands are still on her back. Her hands reach for his and she holds them between their bodies. He opens his eyes and swallows back the burn in his throat. She rubs her thumb across his skin.
"Things don't always turn out the way you thought they would", she whispers back with tears in her eyes.
He hangs his head and she lets go of his hands. She turns to the door once more and opens it slowly. "Goodbye, Luke", she whispers with a strained voice. He looks at her; blue meeting green eyes and wants to say so much, needs to say so much. But, he doesn't. He's clearly caused her enough pain.
She watches him leave and closes the door behind him. She places her hand on the doorframe and rests her forehead against the frosted glass. He watches from the other side as she retreats back to her desk.
"Hey", Chelsea calls out to him. He looks over at her and takes note of her confused face. "What's with the dramatics?" she asks. He chuckles. Something about this girl reminds him of the Brooke Davis he knew years ago.
"It's a long story", he says while turning to walk away. She makes a face. Something about this man seems well intended and her boss could certainly use a well intending man. She glances back at the door and quickly rips a post-it from her stack. She scribbles down something and prays she doesn't get fired.
"Here", she calls out before he can reach the elevator. He stops and faces her. His features change into one of confusion at the small white paper in her hands. "Just take it", she says while she shrugs. "Don't tell her where you got it from though", she threatens seriously. He chuckles and takes the paper.
"Thank", he says sincerely as he starts to back away.
"Don't make me regret it", she warns protectively.
And he hopes he doesn't.
And globes and maps are all around me now
I wanna feel you breathe me
Globes and maps I see surround you here
Why won't you believe me?
Globes and maps they charter your way back home
Do you wanna leave or somethin?
The second she sits down she's dialing a number she knows by heart.
"P. Sawyer!" the raspy voice cheers. "Right on time", she says as she glances at the clock in her kitchen. It's their scheduled time to talk; of course they talk about seven times a day, but this is the time they always take to sit and talk, no matter what. She hears the ragged breaths of her best friend and sits a little straighter. "What's wrong?" she asks in concern.
"He's here", Peyton blurts out. She clenches her hands into fists before placing them on either side of her head.
She can picture Brooke's kinked eyebrow. "Who's where?"
"Lucas", she says with a dry throat. "He's here, in LA."
It's silent for a long time. The only noise Peyton can hear is the ticking of the clock in her room. She knows what Brooke must be thinking because she thought all the same things.
"Why? I mean why is he in L.A.?" before the blonde can answer Brooke has the revelation. "He started his book tour, but they wouldn't make LA the first stop. They need a smaller market; small towns generate bigger buzzes for the larger cities", she speaks from her own personal experiences when she was opening her Clothes over Bros boutiques.
"I know that, B", Peyton says with a laugh.
"Wow", Brooke sighs out and then after a moment. "Wait, he was in the studio? In your office?" the brunette can't help but to be jealous. She hasn't been able to make it out to LA yet and Lucas Scott just waltzes in whenever he has the opportunity.
"Yeah", Peyton responds, still in a mild shock.
"How the Hell did he know where to find you?" Brooke asks in awe. Peyton shrugs even though Brooke can't see it.
"I guess he looked me up. The yellow pages are a wonderful source of information", she says dryly.
"That's an awful lot of work just to see you", Brooke says suggestively. Peyton rolls her eyes. "Don't roll your eyes! I'm simply saying –"
"Well don't say", Peyton cuts her off. Brooke sighs.
"Okay, I'm sorry", she whispers. "If you don't like to talk about him why'd you let him in your office?"
"I didn't – I was sitting at my desk and Chelsea told me someone was here. I thought it was Chris."
"Why would she let him in?" Brooke asks in confusion. As if on cue the redhead enters the office and plops down into the chair Lucas had occupied.
"Talking about me? Hey Brooke!" she yells into the speaker phone.
"Hi secretary girl", she rasps. She likes the teenager; she sees a lot of herself in her, aside from her creepy taste in music. That's all Peyton.
"We were just talking about Lucas", the blonde says softly. Chelsea raises her brows. "Chels, why would you let him in?"
She shrugs. "I figured maybe his book turned into a movie and he wanted to discuss a soundtrack", she says innocently. Both Peyton and Brooke scoff.
"I don't even do that kind of stuff!"
"Fine", she says as she throws her hands up "He's hot, you're single. The only thing remotely close to a boy you hang out with is Chris and I've never heard you guys getting hot and heavy in here –"
"Gross", Brooke interjects. Peyton smirks.
"Says the only girl in this conversation who's slept with him", she mumbles.
"I was drunk", she argues back playfully. Chelsea rolls her eyes at the banter.
"Anyway . . . I figured maybe you'd both hit it off. Roll around on the desk, records some moans. It seemed like a good idea at the time", she says truthfully. Peyton lets out a breath and Brooke beats her to the punch.
"You didn't read his first book?" She questions. Chelsea shakes her head.
"I saw it in the bookstore, but why the hell would I wanna read about a bunch of birds?" Peyton furrows her brows. "It's called An Unkindness of Ravens."
"And on that note I'm hanging up", Brooke says with a laugh. "Call me later P."
The line goes dead and Peyton's still laughing. She wipes at the tear that gathered in the corner of her eye and looks at her young secretary. "His high school basketball team was named The Ravens", she says easily.
Chelsea nods and makes a mental note to Google the book. "I'm going to assume that's in the book because otherwise you look like a crazed stalker", she says with a laugh. "But, back to my reasoning. He's hot, you're hot. Why not give it a go?" she wiggles her eyebrows.
"You are too much like Brooke", Peyton mutters. "I love you for caring, but leave it be."
"Oh come on –"
"He's married", she growls out and Chelsea blinks before quickly recovering. She's never seen Peyton so riled up. Instantly, she knows there's a lot more to this whole thing then she's willing to share.
"That's weird", she mumbles and Peyton raises a brow. "Well, it never said he was married in his book. Most authors dedicate their work to the people that inspire them; the people they love."
Peyton takes a deep, calming breath and shakes her head. "Go home, Chelsea. You shouldn't be here so late all the time. Live your life", the younger of the two knows there's no point in arguing. She stands and smiles softly at the woman she admires. She's strong and noble and kind. But she's also lonely, that's an obvious point.
"You should take your own advice", she whispers as she closes the door behind her.
And I can't take this anymore
Well I know that I can't take this anymore
I can't take this anymore
Cuz I know someday I'll see you walk out that door
He can't believe he's here, doing this. He surely has a death wish. He checks the small piece of paper one last time even though he knows he has the right address. It's odd, he thinks, that in a city like Los Angeles she has a house. Most live in an apartment or a condo, but she's always been one to stray from the norm.
He stands outside of her brownstone. It's beautiful. Flowers litter the boxes on the windowsill and he knows that's her favorite part of living here. Peyton may not be the greatest cook, but gardening was her favorite thing to do. It was something she did with Anna when she was younger. He clears his throat and walks up the cement stairs.
He cannot believe he's doing this. He raises his hand and his knuckles rap against the wooden door twice. There's a moment of nothing and then he hears the gentle padding of her footsteps.
She opens the door and he almost wishes he had a camera to capture the look of shock in her face. She wraps her arms around her waist in an attempt to cover herself. She's in a tank top and shorts. In all honesty she was expecting the hot delivery guy she flirts with occasionally.
This definitely trumps a free order of garlic knots.
"Lucas", she says in shock. "What're you – how did –?" she stops herself when she notices the bubbly handwriting on the paper in his hand. He notices this too and shoves it into his pocket.
"Don't be mad at her", he says when he watches her face change. "She didn't know what she was stepping into", he laughs out of nerves. "I guess she never read my first book."
"No, she didn't", Peyton says matter-of-factly. "She thought it was about a bunch of birds", she adds in an attempt to be vindictive, but when a smirk graces his face she can only smile back.
He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand and she sighs. "What are you doing here?"
He meets her eyes and opens his mouth, but he doesn't have an answer. He just wanted to see her. Thinking about that now makes him seem like a tool. He's married; he shouldn't want to see his ex-girlfriend. She takes a step back into her foyer and he takes one forward on impulse.
"I just, I – yesterday I never", he shuts his mouth and takes a step forward, closing the gap between them.
He takes her into his arms and holds on to her as if she's about to disappear. She hugs back just as fiercely. She had wanted to be in his arms so badly yesterday, but the mention of Lindsey stopped her. She wonders why it isn't stopping him. They stand like that, wrapped in each others arms, for minutes. He cups the back of her neck with his hand and she smiles into his shoulder.
Classic Lucas Scott hug.
He squeezes her tightly against him and breathes out in accomplishment. He wouldn't have been able to leave if he didn't get this. Didn't get her in his arms. She finally loosens her grip and he reluctantly does the same. A blush fills her cheeks and she walks further into the house so that he can't see it.
"How come you're still in town?" she asks from her kitchen. He stands on the opposite end of the island and shrugs.
"The response here was so great that they made it a two day event", she nods and they stand in silence for a minute.
"Where you going next?" she asks out of interest.
"The biggest city of all", he smiles. "New York."
She grins at his accomplishment and shakes her head. "What?" he asks in regards to her change in demeanor.
"I guess I just don't get why you're here", she says what's been on her mind since yesterday. "Why did you show up at Red Bedroom and why are you in my house?" her voice raises with every syllable that leaves her mouth and he flinches.
"I wanted to see an old friend", he says quietly and she feels like she's been punched in the gut; she literally steps back.
"An old friend? Lucas, you make me sound like a girl who sat behind you in English for 4 years. That's not who I am and it's someone I can never be."
"Peyton, I just –"
"No, Lucas, there's no talking yourself out of this one. I want you go", her voice is strong and it surprises her, but she knows she's right. This is wrong, all of it is wrong.
"I miss you", he utters and it's the most truthful thing to leave his mouth in a while. "I know I shouldn't, but I do and I don't know how to stop", he hangs his head.
"Lucas", she whispers with wide eyes.
"I can't help it", he begins his downfall. "I go to sleep wondering if you're sleeping yet. I wake up and think about what you're doing. When I run, I, sometimes I imagine that I'm running to you, to find you, to get to you. I can't make it go away."
"You can't be saying this", she mumbles as she walks out of the kitchen. He follows after her. "You can't come to LA after six months of silence and say these things!"
"You were the one who never made an effort to call."
"Neither did you! I know Haley wanted to tell you my phone number in hopes that you would come to your senses and at least apologize, I'm sure she did because she's Haley and you never called Lucas, not once! You don't get to say you miss me when you clearly don't mean it."
"I haven't written a thing. Not a single sentence since you've left. When you were back in Tree Hill I wrote a whole book! There's so much pressure from the company, The Comet has a huge following and critics love it, Peyton. They love the love story I didn't even know I was writing!"
"I'm sorry that your inspiration's been lacking", she says sarcastically, but fights the sob in her throat. She doesn't know if he realizes his slip up, but she sure did. The love story he didn't even know he was writing.
"Peyt, that's not it", he whispers with a hoarse voice. "God! I don't even know what I'm trying to say . . . Terrance Cole, he's an author who umm, he read and reviewed the book. He said that –"
"Lucas Scott's sophomore effort is a moving portrait of lost love. It will turn even the most cynical reader into a hopeless romantic", Peyton reiterates the passage from the back cover. He smiles and nods.
"Yeah."
"Luke, I don't get the point of this", she says honestly. "This is too weird and too late and you need to leave", she says with finality as she pulls her front door open.
"Peyton, I just –" he swallows hard to push past the lump in his throat and before she can react he cups her face and swoops his lips down onto hers. It's passionate and personal and everything that every great reunion should be. But this isn't a reunion.
Her brain snaps back into focus and she pushes him away. She then raises her hand and swipes it across his cheek. The sound is deafening. "How dare you!" she says venomously.
"You kissed back!" he retaliates. He doesn't know why he's so angry. He's married, he shouldn't be doing this. He should be thanking her for pulling away instead of leading him to the bedroom.
"And I always will! But that doesn't mean I should", she whispers the last part and his heart clenches when he sees her eyes fill with tears. She pushes on his shoulder and he stumbles out her front door.
"Peyton, I'm –"
"There's nothing here for you. Go home to your wife", she says as she closes the door in his face.
And globes and maps are all around me now
I wanna feel you breathe me
Globes and maps I see surround you here
Why won't you believe me?
Globes and maps they chart your way back home
So Do you wanna leave? Do you wanna leave?
Globes and maps they chart your way back home
Do you wanna leave or somethin?
Let me know what you think!
I know, depressing, sorry. You may have questions and I will answer them in time. Also, another time jump next chapter, not too big, about a year lol.
