"Lipstick" by Dan + Shay: this one has been requested by quite a few people. It's a little bit different than the song because I've added a twist thanks to othfangirl's suggestion, but I hope I've done it justice.

. . .

"It's just another Friday," Haley mutters under her breath as she scrutinizes at her solemn reflection in the bathroom mirror. She sees six months of sadness scarring her every feature. Face void of make-up for the past week, she knows it's time to at least try. Try to paint on a pretty face and force a smile. It's a foreign feeling; the muscles in her cheeks are weak and Haley almost forgets the image of her teeth.

Paleness lingers on her skin. For mid-June, it appears that she hasn't seen the sun since last summer. It was a cold, dreary winter, still lingering in her veins. The ice hasn't even begun to thaw— but for tonight, she'll pretend to see the sun again.

After yet another deep breath, Haley glances at the time on her phone and sighs. He'll be here in less than a half-hour and she's still dressed in a tank-top and old sweat pants; hardly date material. Luckily, Brooke had stopped by earlier to drop off some new designs for her clothing company and thanks to best-friend privileges, Haley had first dibs.

There was a time, not too long ago, where Haley would have been eager to show off the newest Clothes-Over-Bro's dresses that Brooke gave her, especially the little black one spread across her bed right now.

Today, though, Haley doesn't care. If she could, she would've stayed in her sweats all day— Never even leave the safety of her sheets. But when a text pops up on her phone reading, "I can't wait to see you," Haley knows it's too late to cancel. Plus, it'll only be a drink or two; not long until she can crawl back into the darkness.

Another heavy sigh and she leans over the sink to paint her lips in a bright red color.

And just like that, she slips into the illusion of a happy and carefree thirty-something-year-old woman.

She looks like the Haley from six-months ago. The happy Haley.

But on the inside, the lipstick does little to mask her lingering depression.

"You can do this," she says aloud. Maybe if the words roll off her lips and project into the universe, they'll come true. It's a ruse, just like most things in life, but she's trying.

She picks up her phone again and finds a song that once made her happy— a suggestion made by her therapist last week. 'More Than Anyone' by Gavin DeGraw plays from the speakers but Haley still feels nothing. Not even a flicker of a smile. No tears. Nothing but numbness.

Her clothes fall limply onto the floor. She makes no move to carry them o the hamper. What's the point?

As she idly slips into the little black dress, Haley desperately tries to avoid looking at her now unrecognizable body. She knows she's lost weight— a lot more than considered healthy for her five-foot-four stature. Why doesn't she care?

Her sister made a comment last week. Haley simply shrugged it off.

The dress is looser than it should be but at least it's comfortable. Brooke insisted it'd look even sexier paired with something red and lacey underneath. Haley nearly snorts at the thought. Her frumpy, plain cotton underwear and bra are hardly what she'd call sexy. Brooke would have a stroke if she ever finds out.

Really, who goes on a date in granny panties and a fraying bra?, Haley could hear the raspy voice inside her head.

There's a knock on the door downstairs and she suppresses a curse. Is it really seven already?

She grabs her sandals (sorry Brooke, no heels) and dashes for the door, hoping to all that is Holy that she looks presentable. Happy. Anything but herself.

"Hi," he's standing there in a navy blue suit, smiling shyly. He must've come straight from work, she surmises. When he awkwardly sticks out a bouquet of purple flowers, she plasters a smile upon her red lips.

"Thanks," she mumbles softly and momentarily disappears into the kitchen to put them in a pot of water; next to the very same ones from last week, which, were seemingly still going strong.

"All set?" He asks. His stupid smirk hasn't faltered and for a second, she's envious of how easily it appears.

She just nods and follows him out towards his car where he pulls the passenger door open for her— A gesture that usually makes her heart race, but it's barely beating as of now.

The car ride is silent as Haley stares out the window with her chin resting in her palm. She tries with everything inside of her to just let go of it all for one night; all the tears and pain and I'm sorry's and sadness. She just has to go through the motions and fool everyone into thinking she is fine.

For one night, she'll try to do it.

Haley catches a glimpse of her reflection in the side mirror. The lipstick is still bright and yet to smudge, regardless of how hard she's biting the inside of her cheek. Good. She looks normal.

The car comes to a steady halt, and Haley notices they're at a red light. His eyes fall on her. He's studying her. She can feel it. She hopes he falls for it.

"You're beautiful."

Her eyes fall shut. The sound of his husky voice is the first ray of light to poke through the clouds. An ounce of warmth tickles the edge of the darkness. She almost smiles.

"I mean it, Hales."

"I know," she whispers. And she does.

"I'm really glad you decided to say yes tonight," he keeps talking. "I have a fun night planned for us."

Like an obedient bobble-head, she nods again. His shoulders fall slightly and she knows then that he can see through the lipstick. She instantly regrets putting it on. She'd given him a false hope— she just hopes he knows how much she really is trying.

He doesn't tell her where they're going, but it doesn't take long for them to get there. Haley recognizes it as the boardwalk. At least it's a nice night.

"I reserved us a table on the water," he says as he opens her car door again. She doesn't think when her hand instantly slips into his. Another warm beam of light breaks through the coldness.

They walk hand-in-hand to the table. His ridiculous grin is infectious. She genuinely cracks a small smile.

"I have a surprise for you," he says when they sit across from each other on the wooden benches.

Haley bites her lower lip, watching with wide eyes when he pulls open a Cracker Jack box.

"Whatever you find in that box, Nathan, isn't going to fix me."

"Why not?" That damn grin again. "It fixed me."

She placatingly sticks out her wrist so he can slide on the plastic multi-colored bracelet. Good, she thinks silently as she begins to fiddles with the beads. A distraction.

"How was your day?" He asks after the waitress takes their drink order. Nathan ordered a beer for himself and dirty martini for her— just like every Friday night, even though she barely ever touches them.

"The same," she avoids his eyes, overcome with embarrassment. She wants to feel better. If he can, why can't she?

Nathan gently rubs his thumb over the top of her hand and gives her an encouraging smile. "Did you go shopping? That dress looks new."

Haley shakes her head and stares out at the water. A boat is in the distance. "No. Brooke dropped it off."

"Well, it looks incredible on you."

"Thanks," much to her chagrin a blush seizes her cheeks, matching the color of her lips.

He seems eagerly satisfied with the result.

"How was your day?" She asks, wanting to forget about how long she laid in bed.

"Not bad. Work was busy but I think I'm about to sign that new client for the Knicks."

"Congratulations, Nathan. I knew you could do it." It's simultaneously scary and amazing just how quickly he can make her feel okay again. Pride bursts through her at his joyful declaration.

"Thanks," he clinks his beer in direction of her drink and watches as she takes a small sip. Baby steps.

They fall into an easy conversation, mostly discussing Nathan and their friends, but for the moment, Haley forgets anything is wrong. She can pretend that the past six months never happened and enjoy her time with Nathan.

Nathan's excitement is palpable and Haley doesn't know what to make of it. She's torn between wanting to feel happy again or basking in misery. She loves how hard he's trying and hates him for it at the same time. She hates how he can make her happy.

She hates that the happiness is no longer forced— that the more she pretends, the more the darkness actually fades.

As Haley mulls this over, she pushes her Mac 'n' cheese around the plate with a fork.

Nathan notices this and sighs again. He thought she was getting better. Her smiles were real tonight but she still wasn't eating. "Not hungry?"

"Not really," Haley shrugs and takes a sip of her drink instead. She doesn't really need alcohol; she's numb on the inside anyway.

"Do you want to go home?"

"No, that's alright."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm really trying here, Nathan," she breathes as she snaps her eyes shut.

"I know you are, baby," he squeezes her hand but recoils instantly when the word falls off his tongue and land in the space between them. She flinches, overcome with the urge to vomit right there.

That word— baby. A nickname he's called her forever suddenly cuts like a knife through her chest.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't think…" he trails lamely. How could he be so stupid?

"It's okay," she whispers. Her eyes refuse to open and he can see the pain radiating off her skin.

Nathan wants to slam his fist against the wooden table. He, too, suddenly lost his desire to eat. He'd been trying so hard to make her happy, especially after what they'd gone through together six months ago. With the utterance of one word, all progress was lost. He was lucky she even agreed to letting him take her out once a week— it was the only time he recognized her; the only hope he had. A hope that the Haley he loved was still in there somewhere.

"I'm so stupid," he blinks harshly, hoping to stop the tears, but its to no avail. They fall freely down his cheeks freely.

"Nathan," Haley opens her eyes and reaches out for him. "Stop it. It's not your fault."

He shakes his head, "I feel like I've broken you, Haley."

"You haven't, you couldn't," she sniffles and moves her hand out to cup his cheek. "When I'm with you, it's the only time I feel like the weight has lifted."

He hangs his head, "It was stupid of me to think that these dates would replace our grief. We've both been pretending for so long and it's not okay, Haley."

"I understand, Nathan. You just want to help me. I know I haven't been a very good wife—,"

"What? How could you think that?" He asks with shock.

She laughs softly. The sound is a beautifully foreign language. "I lay in bed all day and barely talk to you and touch you unless it's a Friday night."

"You had a miscarriage," it pains him to say it, and it pains her to hear it, but its the truth. And it hangs there, guts and all, waiting to be addressed.

"We had a miscarriage," Haley says with tears brimming her eyes. "And I love you so much for trying to ease the pain with these dates. I know it's hard for you, too, and I know I haven't said it yet, but you'll never know how much our Friday night dinners mean to me. Pretending or not, I really feel the best when I'm with you, Nathan."

"I love you so much," he chokes, "I just wish I could take away all your pain and hurt. I hate seeing you like this."

"I know, but I'm getting there, Nathan. Slowly. You and Jamie and Lydia have helped so much. I'm just… this depression is so consuming, sometimes. I can't control it."

He nods and presses a firm kiss on her ring finger, just above the diamond ring. "I wish there was more I could do."

"Just being here is more than enough. More than you'll ever know. You make the darkness a little lighter and lot less scarier. I couldn't do this without you."

"You'll never have to," he promises.

She smiles widely, despite the falling tears. "I love you, Nathan Scott."

"I love you, too."

For the first time in a long time, Haley Scott doesn't hide behind her lipstick. She knows she'll be okay without it. She leans across the wooden table and gently kisses her husband's lips. She's still lost in the woods, but today, she found the fire to keep her warm. He was standing in front of her all this time.