Pairing: BL with minor NH

Disclaimer: Mark owns it, I'm just playing in his sandbox.

Summary: Learning sometimes means soul searching. There are no words to calm that kind of hurting. BL

AN: Huge thank you to everyone that reviewed, you guys are the best *stands up and starts singing Larger than life by BSB*. Just kidding. However I do own a Millennium CD, that the song is from. Sad I know, but in my defense I was young and stupid than and now I'm not (young at least). But that's so not the point. Here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy and don't forget to review!

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Chapter 6: Dreaming in red

As she woke up, slowly she became aware of the clock ticking in the distance at much faster rate than her heartbeat that was still lulled with sleep. But the more awake she became the more in sync went the clock and her heart. And the drums in her head, thumping louder and louder with each passing second.

She opened her eyes carefully and quickly closed them again, her head feeling as if she's been hit by a very large truck or a bus. Yes it was most definitely a bus. Maybe she should just keep her eyes closed just for now. It hurt less that way.

Leaning back into her pillow she took a deep breath trying to remember what the hell happened last night. And then it all came back to her and she almost jumped of the couch as her eyes snapped open, only increasing her already overwhelming headache.

She looked around the space she was standing in with one eye open not recognizing it. Great, she probably picked up some guy while being totally drunk and went with him home. God she couldn't even remember who it was! Or how he looked. Or what the hell she did since she walked on that dance floor last night, which was just ridiculous.

So she was sure that the entire night must've been some sort of dream or something. Or a nightmare. A horrible kind of nightmare where she lied to Lucas that she was engaged to some guy while he looked at her with those blue eyes that had heartbreak spelled in them. Yes, it must have been a dream. She would never do anything that stupid in real life.

Except that she totally did. And it wasn't a damn dream because Lucas Scott was sleeping on the really uncomfortable looking sofa right in front of her.

Damn it.

As she tiptoed her way around the table, the thought how this was the first time in quite a while that she actually managed to sleep longer than two hours in piece crossed her mind, but she figured it was just because she drank way too much last night. Yes, that must have been it.

----BL----

Her first thought, after walking out of the living room barefoot, shoes in hand, was to leave but soon she remembered she had no car and walking all the way to the hotel in four inch heels and with a mayor headache did not seem all that appealing. So she decided to make some coffee and find some aspirin instead.

A few minor changes aside, the kitchen looked almost exactly the same as it did back when she lived here for that brief couple of months. And apparently the arrangement was the same, she thought, as she pulled out a mug for coffee from the top left cabinet feeling a bit proud that she still remembered that.

Ten minutes later she was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of steaming hot coffee between her small fingers. Her headache was starting to loosen up slowly and the scent of fresh made coffee felt like a balm on the burnt skin to her dulled senses.

Her eyes kept wondering in the direction of the living room, wondering if he was awake yet. A thought about calling a cab and going back to the hotel crossed her mind but that sounded way to much like running away after a one night stand scenario which had nothing to do with their current situation. So she decided to call her best friend instead and ask her if she was up to some breakfast out and if she could give her a ride back to the motel. Obviously they had a lot of catching up to do and she also had some apologizing to do. Her behavior last night was unacceptable to say the least. But knowing Peyton she was sure that the blonde girl would forgive her before she even asks for it and probably add something about there being nothing to forgive.

Dialing the number she glanced in the direction of the living room once more with apprehension. She had a feeling Luke wouldn't be as generous.

"B Davis, could it be?" a voice on the other end startled her, bringing her back to reality.

"I'm afraid so."

"How's the hangover?"

"Good considering the circumstance."

"What was that all about anyways?" Peyton asked.

"It's a long story." Brooke said, too tired to explain yesterdays mess over the phone "Anyway, I was wondering are you busy this morning?"

"Um, not really. Why'd you ask?"

"How do you feel about going for breakfast with your bestest friend?"

"And who would that be?"

Brooke rolled her eyes "P Sawyer don't joke with a hangover person, I could seriously harm you."

"I'm not. That was a serious question."

"Yeah, I haven't been good with that whole keep in touch thingy. But I have a feeling I wasn't the only one."

"Maybe not, but I've been busy."

"And I wasn't?" Brooke asked with a laugh.

"I see your point there." Peyton agreed, pausing "When have we turned into these career obsessed women who don't care about their friends?"

"Um…four years ago, judging by our last phone call." Brooke chipped in "So breakfast?"

"God, has it really been that long?" Peyton asked, genuinely surprised.

"Yep." Brooke confirmed. "I know it's horrible, but can we just get to the food part and not lose another four years on the phone?"

"Sure, where do I meet you?"

"Well, could you pick me up at Luke's house?"

"Luke's?"

"Don't even go there, it's nothing like that."

"Whatever you say B Davis." Peyton said, not believing a word she said.

"And could you bring me some clothes?" she said, looking at her wrinkled dress and only confirming Peyton's initial doubts.

"I'll see what I can do." she retorted, but Brooke could hear laughter in her voice. She could practically imagine the blonde sitting on her bed, biting her lower lip to stop herself from laughing out loud or teasing Brooke by making some really inappropriate comment about what she and Luke did last night that had nothing to do with sleeping.

"Great. Thank you."

"Yeah, I'll see you in an hour."

"Alright P Sawyer."

With that she hung up.

Looking at her empty mug of coffee she sighed. Lucas was obviously still asleep and Peyton wouldn't be here in another hour. She had just enough time for a nice relaxing shower.

Before doing so she made a slight detour to his bedroom to grab something to wear since she didn't exactly bring any clothes with her.

Grabbing the first thing she found she walked out and proceeded to the bathroom, hoping there were some clean towels in that hallway closet, not hearing her phone beep again, signaling the arrival of a new text message.

----BL----

The night is cold, the kind you only feel on the East Coast, that 'almost melt your bones, make you wish you wore that extra shirt under your jacket' cold. Streets are so crowded it's hard to walk without bumping into random people with unknown faces. He doesn't recognize any of them but somehow he can feel someone is out there, deep, behind the denial, behind the pretense...

That's when he sees it. Red. A breath of a heavy breeze moves a strand of her hair away and he sees it. The dress. Eyes blurred with emotion but all he can think of is red. Red dress and he knows. Now he knows...

Eyelashes fluttered just as he was about to reach for her, his eyes opened, his vision blurry and eyelids still heavy with sleep. In that half awoken state all he could see was red, and then it all came back to him, his vision clearing in a second as he focused on the object in question, her dark red shoes left lying by now empty couch. He instantly became more alert, his mind going a mile a minute, thinking back of his dream and the conclusion he wished he never made because there was one thing true about dreams, they never come true. So what was the point?

God, his head was aching. Badly. And his back and neck weren't that far behind with the aching thing either. He really should avoid sleeping in the uncomfortable small sofas in the future and dream about a woman he lost long ago. And drinking. Not that he did a lot of that last night. But the thing was he didn't usually do even a little of that. So two beers and two glasses of wine were enough to tip the glass for him. And combined with the night spent sleeping in the sitting position it was safe to say that the glass was overflowing with water by now.

God he could really use an aspirin and a glass of water right about now. His mouth felt dry.

There was a bottle of lemon flavored water on the coffee table so he stood up and picked it up, looking at the empty couch in front of him.

She must've left, he thought as he took a sip of the water. It was stale and bitter, and not enough to clench his thirst.

He debated whether to go to the bathroom first or to the kitchen as he heard a loud thud somewhere near and the decision was made for him.

----BL----

The sight that awaited him in the kitchen was almost dreamlike.

There, in his kitchen, he was met with a sight of Brooke Davis sitting at the table, playing with the cup in front of her as her hair fell down in waves hiding her face, oblivious to his presence. Dark blue sweatpants hang loosely around her slender hips and she had to fold it up in more than once in order to avoid tripping.

His grey hoodie complimented her body better than any tight top ever could, or so Lucas thought as he made his presence known by walking further into the room. He could almost feel the warmth of the fireplace on his face, the weight of her body pressed against his as he remembered the last time he saw her wearing the same thing.

"Morning Brooke. Are you okay, I thought I heard…"

"Um…I kinda dropped your hair dryer but its fine, still in one piece and functioning. So it's all good. And good morning to you too." She said with a smile, and then added "I took the liberty of using your shower. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not." He said, looking around for something.

"There's coffee on the counter." she pointed out.

"Thanks." he said, grateful for the help before walking over to fill his cup "And I see you found some clothes too."

Brooke looked at him, blushing a little "Yeah, I figured it would be more comfortable that way."

"I don't mind." He said, holding up his cup of coffee between his fingers to take a sip.

"I can't believe you kept this hoodie, it's like fifty years old." she said, pulling at the shirt to straighten it out "And it's not like you can't afford a new one."

"It's closer to ten then fifty, and I do have other ones that are actually less ancient." he assured her "I just didn't have the heart to throw that one out."

"Aw, how very sentimental of you." she joked, realizing all too late that laughing wasn't something she should be doing hangover. She closed her eyes for a moment as Lucas looked at her, his expression changing from annoyance to worry in a matter of seconds.

"Are you alright?" he asked, fighting the urge to kneel beside her and check up on her a little better.

She looked up at him, reassuring him "I'm okay but I think it's safe to say that my alcohol tolerance has decreased significantly since high school days."

"There's some aspirin in…"

"…top left cabinet." She finished for him "I know."

"Right." He said awkwardly.

"Thanks for saving me last night." She said, the words from long ago echoing in her head, an image of the two of them laying on his bed, his hand in hers. He promised her then that he'd save her from everything.

"Yeah, it's not a big deal."

"It is. So thank you. Anyway, I won't be bothering you much longer, Peyton is coming to pick me up so I'll be leaving soon." She said promptly.

"You make it sound like you're some kind a burden Brooke when you're anything but. It's kinda nice to have company here. Ever since mom moved away with Andy it's been a bit…"

She knew what he meant all too well. "Yeah, I'm sure it has. I mean I have this huge apartment in NYC and don't get me wrong, it's not that I'm complaining. It's great to have your own place but it can get a little…"

"Yeah." He agreed, his eyes locking with hers.

Her heart started to beat faster and with all the determination she possessed she finally looked away, down at the table seeing that her phone was lit up. Quickly she picked it up and read that there was 1 new text massage. She opened it, reading its contents, thankful for the distraction.

Then the doorbell rang.

"That must be Peyton, I should go." She said already standing up.

He let her go and open the door as he picked up their empty mugs to put them in the sink. It was then that he noticed she has left her phone on the table. He picked it up and saw that there was a massage opened on the screen. It was right there in front of him, big letters on a flashing white screen, making it impossible not to see, not to read it.

Thx for giving us the second chance. I know we can work this out. Call me when you wake up. I love you. - Blake

It was then that Brooke walked into the room carrying some bag "I have to go change. Peyton brought me some decent clothes." She explained "Oh, and she's waiting at the door, I'll be right back."

He just nodded, an automatic reaction more than a real response to her explanation, as she disappeared into his bedroom. He kept staring at that damn message as if there was a possibility that if he stared at it long enough it would somehow disappear.

Not even two minutes later she walked out in jeans and a black top, her hair pulled into a high ponytail. Over her top she quickly put on his hoodie. "Can I borrow this since its kinda cold outside and Peyt forgot to bring me a jacket."

"Yeah, sure."

"Thanks. So I have to hurry." She said, kissing him lightly on the cheek before hurrying towards the front door.

It was then that he realized he got so distracted by her gesture that he actually forgot to give her back the phone. With a sigh he hurried to the door.

"Brooke…"

"What?" she turned just as she was at his front doorstep, Peyton standing a few feet away on the porch, her hair looking almost crimson in the morning sun.

"Hi Luke." Peyton greeted him and he nodded, but his eyes were still on Brooke.

"You forgot your phone." He said giving it to her.

She glanced at the small device and then back at his face, a mixture of guilt and regret in her eyes "Thanks." she said before turning away.

"Hey Luke?"

"Thank you for saving me last night." she said before adding "You're a great friend."

He looked up, her last words echoing in his mind. Short. To the point. Final. "Brooke that wasn't wha…"

"No, it was." she said quietly before closing the door behind her.

He remained at his spot trying hard to quiet that voice in his head that told him she hasn't just closed those doors on him but also on every possibility of them being anything more than friends.

And with a click of the door, there was no more red in sight. All that was left was black.

----BL----