A/N: This one's pretty short, only about 2000 words. L/P fans, I'm sorry, tune in again next chapter if this isn't your thing. I just needed to get this out of my system, and this was the place to do it.
Memory.
"Mm," Peyton murmurs appreciatively as she nips at Julian's lips. He smiles back at her, bringing his head back down towards hers for another, deeper kiss that only increases the tingling feeling coursing through her body.
Julian settles himself at her side, wrapping an arm around her waist and presses kisses against the skin of her shoulder, which is salty from the thin layer of sweat that coats her body. "That is, by far, my favourite way to wake up."
She giggles, blushing at her own girlish tendencies, before running her fingers through his hair fondly and sighing contentedly. "You feel so good," she whispers, turning her head to kiss him again, slipping her tongue into his mouth.
When he pulls away, in need of air, his hand runs lightly down her bare back, and he groans. "As much as I would love round two…" She raises her eyebrows sceptically, sensing the 'but', "But," Julian sighs, "I have a meeting in like an hour."
Her sweetest, coyest smile makes it way to her lips as she shakes her head, snuggling closer. "Nuh-uh."
"Yeah," he whispers back, and when he nods his nose brushes hers.
"No," she replies, and before he can say another word she covers his mouth with hers.
She shifts so that she's lying on top of him, melding her body perfectly into his. She matches her hips to his, tucks her arms into his sides, and rests her toes atop his feet. He pulls back first, gasping out, "You're playing dirty."
She quirks an eyebrow and traces his jaw line with her index finger. "Is it working?" she asks as though it is a genuine question, all innocence and curiosity.
He shakes his head, throwing her a perfectly affectionate smile right before he gives her a whisper of a kiss. "I've really got to go."
The moment her bottom lip sticks out he kisses her pout away, but she knows that business has to come before pleasure and rolls off of him, letting her head sink into the downy pillows she insisted they buy.
As he showers, she rolled over, half-burying her face into the pillow and biting back a smile.
She's happy. Really and truly happy. It's been almost two years since she's felt so totally and completely encompassed by a cloud of bliss, but Julian is really helping to heal her heart.
Reaching down to the floor, she sweeps up the shirt he slept in the previous night and tugs it over her head, snuggling into the soft, worn-in cotton and inhaling his spicy scent. As she settles back down amidst the pillows and blankets, she reaches over to her nightstand and tugs the drawer open.
This is the place she keeps the hand cream she uses right before bed, the vial of über-expensive perfume Brooke insisted on buying for her, and a couple copies of Cosmo. None of those things interest Julian, but it's also the place where they keep condoms and the handcuffs he bought her as a joke but that actually ended up getting used a couple times. But Julian has never really looked into the drawer, because any time he reaches in, his mind is far from curious about its other contents.
He doesn't know that this is where she keeps the collector's edition of An Unkindness of Ravens. She shelled out forty dollars for the traditionally, beautifully bound copy of Lucas Scott's book. Considering the fact that she owned six other copies and the book on CD, it may have seemed like a crazy decision, but she couldn't help herself.
She still thinks about him, of course she does. It's not everyday anymore. Sometimes it's even three or four days before Lucas Scott pops up in her head. But at least once a week, he flashes through her mind. She opens the book to the very last page. …in love with Peyton Sawyer, it says, that final, perfect sentence. That final, perfect lie.
She had believed in it. She had thrown her whole heart to the boy who spoke those words. Trusted him with that part of her essential to life. And he had walked away. Left her to wake up alone in a hotel room with her head spinning and a pain in her chest that came and went with each beat of her heart.
Sometimes she wonders if he is happy, too. If he's found someone, like that girl at the book signing, who gives him that familiar feeling Peyton get now, of butterflies in her stomach and a sudden shyness that appears out of nowhere when she's looked at a certain way. A part of her – the selfish part – hopes he hasn't. She wants him to ache the way she did for him, before Julian swept her off her feet just as she was about to hit rock bottom.
Another part of her, that small part of her that will always be passionately in love with him, hopes that he has found someone. Because that part of her wants nothing but his happiness.
The vindictive and romantic parts of her soul will never reach an agreement on the topic of Lucas Scott. Sometimes she hates that, and at other times she thinks it's better that way.
She runs her finger softly over the words he wrote, words he wrote for her, as a tribute to their love. She lets the book fall closed and rests her palm against the cover.
Just like couples in those old movies told one another that they'd always have Paris, she and Lucas would always have Ravens. It is a permanent, printed part of their history. A memory from the time when her future suddenly lost its fuzziness and became painfully obvious.
When the spray of the shower ends, she tucks the book back in the drawer, kicks the sheet that covers her off, and smirks to herself. She's over the past. The present is more than enough for her.
Julian emerges from the en suite bathroom, still dripping water, wearing nothing but a fluffy white towel around his waist. Peyton resists the urge to chuckle. He thinks he's won, and it's almost…cute.
His casually cocky smile disappears instantly when he spots her, propped up against the pillows in nothing but his favourite sleep shirt, her best come-hither look lighting up her eyes lustfully. "Sup, babe?" she asked, blinking at him innocently.
"Oh…that is just cruel," he said, shaking his head.
She licks her lips and lifts one shoulder. "Sure it is…now what're you gonna do about it?"
He practically dives onto her, saying, "I like feisty Peyton."
She lets out a loud laugh, but places a hand firmly against his chest to keep him from fully resting his weight on her body. "Um, don't you have a meeting to get to?" she asks, scrunching up her nose.
Julian chuckles and presses his body firmly against hers. "You win," he whispers. "Of course you do."
She smiles sweetly back and gives in. The water from his body seeps through her shirt and finds her skin, but she doesn't object. She likes the feel of the transfer of the water droplets; it's a connection.
His hand sneaks up between them as he kisses her to cup her breast, feeling its weight in his palm, and she murmurs something unintelligible against his lips. That same hand moves up further until its finally cupping her cheek, and it is only then that he pulls away, resting most of his weight on his other arm so as not to crush her. "You're so fucking gorgeous," he says, and despite the fact that it's a little bit crude, there is a reverent note in his voice that makes her melt.
"But what about your meeting?" she asks, feigning concern.
Julian just laughs, his breaths hot and heavy against the skin of her neck. "I told you that my moving in with you was a bad idea."
She smiles back as his thumb gently brushes against her bottom lip. She hooks a leg around his, pressing him closer with her heel. "But you're going to stay right here with me, right?" she asks softly, and is surprised by the extent of the tenderness and vulnerability in her own voice.
It surprises her boyfriend as well, she can tell by the sudden change in his eyes and the way his hand moves to stroke her hair softly. "Yeah," he tells her, looking deep into her green orbs. "I am."
-x-
Julian misses his meeting, but she doesn't care. He spends the whole day buried in bed with her, ignoring phone calls and telling silly secrets, whispering into her ear and touching every bit of her skin with his lips.
"We gotta get out of bed," he groans as she peppers kisses over his chest.
"No," she scoffs, peeking up at him through her eyelashes. Her hair must be a mess, her lips are throbbing, and her eyes are hazy, but he's still looking at her the way he did when he saw her in that black dress on their first official date.
It's because he loves her.
"Come on," he coaxes gently, standing and quickly pulling on a pair of boxers. He reaches out both hands and smiles. "Let's make something to eat. I'm starving."
She arches her eyebrows teasingly and he rolls his eyes, correcting himself, "For food."
She pulls the sheet up to her chest and extends her hand, giving one of his a squeeze. "Okay. Sounds good. Just let me grab something to wear."
He nods, and keeping his hand entwined with hers, leans down to kiss her forehead. It's protective and sweet; two characteristics of his that she knows are generally hidden from the rest of the world.
They are hers alone, and she treasures them.
She pulls on a pair of black shorts and a thin blue shirt. She wanders out into the kitchen, pausing to smile as she watches him pour oil into a frying pan. She's always loved that he does at least half, if not more of the cooking. He takes on responsibility, he takes care of her, and she does the same. It's give and take, and it's working so well.
"Are you going to come over here and help me out, or are you just going to keep staring?" He turns and grins, calling her on her gawking, making her blush.
She walks over to him and he lifts his free arm so that she can step into a half-hug. "Sorry you missed your meeting," she murmurs, a bit abashedly, as she presses a kiss into the crook of his neck.
"Eh, it's alright," he shrugs, cracking an egg expertly with one hand. "A day in bed with the girl I love is always so much better."
She smiles softly. "I love you, too," she tells him with gentle certainty in his voice. She leans up for a kiss that is meant to be a short apology, but turns into something much more.
Julian warns, against her lips, "Mm, keep that up and we'll be back in the bedroom."
Peyton laughs mischievously, feeling whole and happy. "Who said anything about the bedroom?" she asks cheekily.
All it takes a second, a flick of her wrist to turn the burner off, a slight hop to boost herself up onto the counter, and a tug on the waistband of his boxers to pull him to stand in between her legs as she kisses him hungrily, letting time fade away once again
It's at moments like these that she finds herself thinking that L.A. finally feels like it really could be home. Like maybe it already is.
A/N: Thoughts?