Last chapter. The takes place back in the gym, in the chapter before last. Thanks to all you guys who commented I really appreciated it since this was a bit different from all the other OTH fics I didn't really think I'd get that many reviews. Thanks again.
Sequal? Maybe. Watch for it.
Lucas's holding my wrists, again, and it's starting to really hurt. My fingertips have turned purple, and his leg is almost between mine, and my back is against the cold concrete wall. That's probably going to chafe . . .
Lucas smiles, serenely, like a cancer patient finding inner peace, and puts his arm around my shoulders until our chests are pressed together. "I'm sorry it took me so long. Well, I will never make another promise with you in mind." He shrugs, looking just a little bit too gleeful for me not to be nervous. He moves his head down, putting our mouths in line with each other, and speaks with his voice an inch away from my lips. "There's a secret I've been perfecting. Remember? I said I wouldn't hurt you? I swore I wouldn't, but you let me. And you've gotten so removed. I've really got to hand it to you."
His tongue traces the outline of my mouth, and I'm vaguely aware that someone's screaming at Lucas, telling him to get off me, get the fuck away, and it sounds like Peyton, but it can't be because She's not with me and I'm alone.
In the span of a minute, he's got me so close to him that I think I'm being absorbed by his body. His tongue is now in my mouth, and I can't breath, I can't think, I can't move. Stars shoot across my field of vision, and Lucas's hand, the one not holding me in place is grabbing at my shirt, pulling it up in the back and clawing at the line of my spine. They might be bleeding, but I can't tell because I can't see anything but him. It keeps going, and going, and I'm really starting to worry that he's just going to kiss me until I pass out, but then it stops and I slide onto my knees on the floor.
Someone pulled Lucas off me, and I'm pretty sure he's right at the moment getting another beating from various people who've witnessed his little display. My lower lip might be bleeding, but it might not be, and sure enough, Peyton is there, arms around me, shielding me with her body. I should feel so relieved, but I can see Lucas, on the floor, with some beefy guy's foot digging into his stomach, and he's laughing so, so hard.
Peyton rubs my back, babbling in my ear, and I think that I lean against her, but maybe I don't. Her hands make the scratches on my back ache, and burn, but I don't care. Because, yeah, She's here with me. She was there before, too, and that didn't help. Lucas was with me, which was okay, he loved me. But I just realized.
The only number that's really indivisible? Is one.
I am Brooke.
I am one.
End