These Lonely Dreams
Just a random one-shot that wouldn't go away until I put it onto paper.
Lucas has seen her off an on over the past year. She usually shows up unannounced acting as if nothing has changed and asking him how he's been with a ridiculously cheery smile on her face.
Her most recent appearance comes in the middle of his two-hour quest to complete the next level of his video game. Without Peyton around, he found himself consumed by the mind-numbing entertainment the game offered. He just needed something to occupy his time.
He's so engrossed in the game that he doesn't notice Peyton sitting next to him on the sofa.
"You boys and your testosterone-pumping video games." She's shaking her head in mock disgust.
"When did you get here?" He doesn't bother to look up from his game.
"What sort of half-assed welcome is that?"
"I'm trying to concentrate on my game here."
"What is with you Luke? Every time I come here you're holed up in this room playing your video games or reading. Don't you get out anymore, play basketball?"
"I'm sorry I thought Peyton was sitting next to me, not my mom. You two both sound so much alike." When he glances over at her she is giving him a warning look, which he finds amusing.
"Don't laugh. For awhile there you looked like you hadn't been eating or sleeping."
"Peyton, every time you show up it's the same thing. You tell me I don't look good and I tell you I'm fine. So now that we've accomplished that task can we move onto something else?"
"Well why don't you put away the damn video game so we can talk. You know I don't have a lot of time here."
"You're right. Sorry. I don't want to waste our time arguing." He tosses the controller to the ground. "So what do I owe the pleasure of this visit to?"
"I just wanted to see how you were doing." She looks down briefly to avoid the flash of sadness that will undoubtedly cross his face, and picks absentmindedly at a piece of lint on her white linen pants. Peyton can't help but smirk at the knowledge that she's actually something so un-Peyton like as white linen.
He inhales deep before he lets it go and looks over at her. "I've nearly gotten over the fact that my girlfriend left me all alone in this shitty town and the only time I see her is when she feels like showing up unannounced and always right in the middle of my video games."
"Lucas, I didn't leave."
"Then what would you call it?"
"I had to go, it wasn't my choice. I've accepted this whole thing and it's time for you to do the same."
He mumbles a reply under his breath but gives her a genuine smile.
"If it'll make you feel better I'll try to avoid showing up in the middle of your precious Halo 2 sessions."
"That would be great, thank you."
Their laughter seems to break the tension, something, for which they are both grateful.
"So what's the weather like up there?"
"You always ask me that." She laughs. Being gone for a year has changed her. He doesn't remember her ever being this happy or carefree. Her brilliant smile is a new discovery.
"It's a funny question, so just humor me."
"The weather is perfect, the sky is always blue, the sun is always shining and it never rains."
"That sounds like perfect golf weather." He shrugs.
"Maybe I'll start taking lessons."
"Me too." They both laugh at the idea of him learning golf, remembering the night they played miniature golf and she beat him handily while he had to fish his ball out of the pond after every stroke.
"I don't ever remember it being this easy between us before you left." He uses air quotes when he says the word 'left' and she rolls her eyes.
"Well we were both so angsty and had that whole tortured souls thing going on. It totally worked for us though. But, I don't know, things are different where I am. There's not a lot of stuff to worry about. So the angst has sort of faded, which is not god for my art."
"We were some mopey-ass kids, weren't we?"
"But rightly so. I mean we had legitimate reasons for the way we were. My mom died when I was a kid, my dad was always gone leaving me to raise myself. Your dad is a complete loser who pretends you don't exist, but worships the ground your half-brother walks on. We were a therapists wet dream, the two of us."
"I think you're right." He agrees with her partly because she's right and partly because he thinks she's never looked as beautiful as she does right then.
"Of course I'm right. I know everything now, it's one of the perks of being…" She catches the grim look on his face and decides against finishing the joke. "Sorry, bad joke."
"Why do you have to be so morbid?"
"I wasn't being morbid. I was just joking."
"Well don't joke like that, some of us aren't at that level of acceptance yet." He stares at his hands for a beat trying to think of something else to say. "Do you remember those movie marathons we used to have over at you house every Friday night."
"Of course. We never did finish most of those movies because you could never keep your hands to yourself." She smiles sadly and hopes that he doesn't notice.
"How is a teenage boy supposed to resist his beautiful girlfriend in a dark room, laid out on the couch and smelling like popcorn and licorice?"
"You're so weird." She swats at him playfully and her touch on his skin reassures him that she is not just a figment of his imagination.
He leans over to touch her face, her skin warm and delicate beneath his fingertips. "I still miss you." He says softly.
"Well you should, I was awesome." His sadness is usually too much for her to bear and today is no different, so she tries to keep things light and fails miserably.
"I'm serious." His voice pleads with her.
She pauses for a moment and all she can see is the immense sadness in his eyes, and she regrets all the hurt her leaving has caused. She curses the unfairness of it all and wishes things could be different. "Maybe I should stop coming here. It's not fair to you and I'm only being selfish."
"If you stopped coming it would only make it harder. Please don't stop. At least not yet."
"Okay." She agrees without hesitation and then sighs. "I have to go now."
"Already?"
"You know the rules." She shrugs sadly. "I don't get a lot of time here."
"I wish you could stay longer." He says as he reaches for her hand and holds her tight for as long as he can.
"I have to go, I'm sorry Lucas." She leans over to kiss him and her lips are warm and full of life as they press against his. His eyes are closed tight as he strains to remember every detail of her kiss, because when he opens his eyes he knows she will be gone. And she is.
Most people would be quick to think Lucas Scott was more than a little crazy if they knew he was having lengthy conversations with the ghost of his dead girlfriend, but he had never cared what people thought of him anyway. When she came to him, she was as real as he was and his proof was the smudge of cherry lip gloss left on his lips long after she had gone.