"This Fire" is a song by Franz Ferdinand.
—Recovering—lying next to each other, panting in a way—
A moment passes. Peyton cuddles up on Lucas's side and he puts his arm around her. "I love you," he whispers and can't seem to say anything else lately.
Peyton, now under Lucas's shoulder whispers, "I love you, too," back and stares at him. This stare lasted so much longer and it was as if they were reaching into each other, trying to find a purpose for what happened, or why they love each other, or what love is for that matter.
This moment passes sooner than expected while Lucas moves toward Peyton, turning to their sides. Lucas puts his arms around Peyton, as if protecting her in an embrace; his arms as the shield, letting nothing harm her, not even the death of her mother. Peyton sifts her hands through his, creating a powerful link to an already powerful shield. Their legs tangle creating the illusion of weapons used for healing. And themselves, as a couple, would never break up from then on. Only one, powerful being.
The new day is twilight as they can see the golden rays coming out of the metal blinds. Lucas turned to Peyton and they stared at each other for one last moment. They searched into each other's souls as they did before, but it was shorter today. Lucas pushed a lock of Peyton's curly hair behind her ear, his hands brushing down her cheeks to her shoulders. He kissed her—no tongue, just a lover's kiss, so powerful, yet so soft and simple. All was lost in their love.
Peyton sighed. "I have to take a shower."
Lucas got a sly smile on his face. "You know, you don't have to do that alone if you don't—"
"No, I do."
"Okay."
So Peyton went to Luke's bathroom and took a shower, only to leave Lucas alone.
He looked at all her drawings and art on the wall and then saw the one of Jake and Jenny. He wondered where they were but was satisfied with the knowledge he had at the same time.
Peyton walked in, interrupting his thoughts. She was wearing only a towel. "Wondering where they are?" She saw what he was looking at.
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"No, but I'm not asking you."
"Good, 'cause you know I wouldn't have told you anyway."
"Yea."
They looked down. Lucas put his hands on hers after an uncomfortable moment, only for her to pull them away.
"My towels going to—"
"Oh—I knew—but—I didn't think—"
"Well, I did—and, uh—you know, I mean, I just—"
"After—"
"Yea."
They both were looking down again.
"I'm going to make some coffee," Lucas said breaking the silence.
"Okay, I'll just get dressed then." Peyton's voice was not heard as Lucas had already reluctantly left, leaving her alone. Peyton took this time to think about the picture of Jake and Jenny as she got her clothes on. This had always reminded her of Nikki at the same time. She had always tried to forget the fight, but this picture always made Peyton hate her more.
She now had all the clothes she wanted on—a comfortable T-shirt and jeans—she wanted Luke to see how she was—just her. Suddenly, Luke walked in, breaking her thoughts.
"Hey," he said, handing her a cup of coffee as he sipped his own. "What's up?" He glanced at her choice of outfit and smiled.
"Oh, just thinkin' about something."
"Like what?" Luke knew she didn't want to tell him, but he felt he had a 'connection' with her after . . .
"Just, you know, Jake and—" Peyton paused for a second.
"Nikki?" Luke slowly said, careful not to sound like he liked her (Nikki) at all. He had a weakness, he'll admit, but he would never love someone whom Peyton hated.
"Yea, kind of . . ." Peyton let her voice trail off. She couldn't bring herself to tell him about her feelings. "I thought that—" She sighed. She could never tell Lucas about her jealousy. Peyton's eyes searched across Lucas's body, trying to find an answer to her troubles.
She looked at his understanding face just for a moment to realize that Nikki meant nothing to him; Peyton meant everything to him. She was his only love right now.
"It doesn't matter anymore." Peyton smiled to Luke as he returned it.
"You know, I never loved Nikki," Luke said.
"I know." She leaned in to kiss him. "That's why it doesn't matter," and the smile grew bigger.
Luke looked ironically kind of 'funny' in a smile for he was bruting so much. He put his arms around her waist after he set their cups of coffee on Peyton's nightstand, closing the drawer that had been opened last night. The couple leaned slowly back into bed and kissed each other, hands tangling, eyes closed. Soft moans escaped from their throats, until Peyton gasped for air, pulling apart their embrace.
"What is it?" she said, when Peyton saw the look on his face—a look of regret, the one she knew all too well.
Luke sighed and sat up. "My mom's probably waiting for me." His eyes were half-closed, only seeing what he needed to.
Peyton moved cautiously toward him, grabbing his arm, nervously fingering his muscular arms and hands. "I guess, yea," she said slowly into his ear. Luke ignored this gesture and stood up, grabbing her hands firmly.
"Luke—" Peyton started, but he cut her off.
"I'm sorry, I have to go," he said, shaking his head, unsure of what to do next. Feelings were battling inside him as he kissed her forehead and let go of her hands. He rubbed her arm for a second before leaving the girl with glossy tears in her eyes.
"Please, don't go!" she cried, but was unheard as he had already shut the door and drove off. Peyton could hear the motor start outside, and suddenly a solid tear flew across her face, nothing coming in its path. She sniveled, and let several more tears flow freely as well, burying her face in her hands, regret and guilt spurring in her gut. Pain had always come in her world—it was why she had a wall, but the one time she let it down, pain had stricken her and had left her all alone. Alone, she thought. I'm always alone.
