Kill

By Jimmy Eat World

A/N - so I've had this song in my car almost everyday since I bought the OTH official soundtrack volume 1 (well I bought all three at the same time, shortly after getting addicted to the show, and I don't know how I coped without knowing all of those amazing artists and songs), which was roughly three years ago.

(On a total side note, I have recently discovered Adam Lambert (youtube him if you haven't heard of him) and he is amazing. His eyes totally draw me in, even with the eyeliner, which in my opinion make him even better. I can feel that his song 'Whataya want from me?' becoming inspiration in the background for another story.)

It is extraordinary how one song can take you back to a scene or an episode, and I never realized how well this song would fit for a scene between Peyton and Lucas during the time jump between Season Four and Five. Some of it will link in with the flashback episode seen in Season Five, but then it will go off on a slight tangent.

This is the first time I have tried to do a song related story, so let me know what you think. My other story, Schwahn Hall is an ongoing process, and I am hoping to up-date soon.

As always I do not own OTH or any of the characters.

Well, you're just across the street, Looks a mile to my feet,
I want to go to you.

Standing on the opposite sidewalk, as close to the large imposing buildings as possible, Peyton lifted her green eyes to look across the busy four lanes of traffic to the small bookstore, nestled in between two large department stores. She had walked past this store more times than she could count, heading from the office to the small record store hidden around the next corner that she had stumbled upon randomly, shortly after arriving in LA. She could feel her heart beating painfully against her ribs; the sound of her pulse rushing through her veins was threatening to deafen her.

Overhead the strong mid-day California sun beat down, bouncing off the cars as they sped past and reflecting back against the windows, turning the smooth surface into a large mirror and throwing the interior into darkness. For a split second, through the throngs of people and a slight gap in the traffic, Peyton could see her reflection staring back at her in the distance. Her blonde curly hair, in need of a decent haircut, was fluttering against her shoulders in the light breeze, and the skirt of her light pink summer dress was ruffling against the creamy skin of her long legs. The dress had been a gift from Brooke, and fit her perfectly, even taking into account her slight weight loss over the last couple of months. Gifts of clothing had always been a common occurrence between Peyton and her fashion designer best friend, through out their entire friendship, and she knew it was Brooke's way of getting her out of her well worn jeans and Converse combination.

Their friendship had been strained even since Brooke moved out to New York to pursue her clothing line, and Peyton had moved across the country to LA to follow her dream of music, but this was all now water under the bridge after a painful phone call between the two a few months ago. Since then the delivery of clothes had increased, all designed with Peyton in mind, and this particular dress had turned up; sent via express delivery, after their last phone call three days ago. Inside the padded box, hidden away inside the tissue paper, Peyton had found a note saying 'do some damage', one of Brooke more infamous lines.

Peyton couldn't deny that the dress was beautiful, as all of her creations were exceptional, but a particular favourite was a deep green shimmery dress, which had been designed to highlight all of her best features. It was strapless with a plunging neckline, flowing out into a knee length skirt, emphasising her slender figure and deep green eyes.

Dragging her thoughts away from her shaky friendship with her best friend, Peyton shifted her attention back onto the small bookstore, and another relationship that was in dire need of repair.

Funny how I'm nervous still, I've always been the easy kill,
I guess I always will.

Adjusting the position of her bag on her shoulder, Peyton could feel the edges of the hardback book digging into her ribs through the thin material, and she remembered the reason she was doing this. She would walk in under the pretence of getting the book signed, just as easy as that. Moving from her sanctuary of leaning against the building, she crossed the street, ignoring the butterflies doubling in her stomach with every step, and just concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other.

The hardback copy of the book that Peyton had slid carefully into her bag this morning, was one of the first editions printed that he had sent to her weeks before the release date, and it had been an unexpected surprise. Peyton remembered ripping open the brown paper in confusion, before the heavy paper slid out into her hands, and she felt her heart stop. She had stood for several long minutes in the entrance hall to her apartment, with her front door wide open, going over every possibility in her mind, whilst tracing the embossed letters with her eyes. Would she read the book, or more accurately could she read the book, knowing that she was one of the characters. She had eventually lost her internal battle, and after closing the front door, unplugging the phone and settling down on her large windowsill overlooking the street, she had opened the stiff binding and immersed her mind and soul into his world.

The words leapt from the page, each one heartfelt and beautiful, moving Peyton frequently to tears. For five hours she saw the world through his eyes, and it was an extraordinary experience. Although she was embarrassed about his biased view of her, she could feel his heart printed out in black and white.

Since then they had shared a couple of emails, started by Peyton to congratulate him on the release of the book, and one phone call, roughly a week ago, which had started off stilted, but she had though it ended on a good note. She could feel the hope rising in her chest, but she refused to acknowledge it, knowing her heart couldn't take much more pain.

Could it be that everything goes 'round by chance?
Or only one way that it was always meant to be.
You kill me, you always know the perfect thing to say,
I know what I should do, but I just can't walk away.

Striding into the small store, running her fingers nervously through her hair, Peyton noticed the small groups of girls clustered around the shelves, whispering excitedly between themselves, and she felt like she had fallen straight back into high school. Rolling her eyes, she stepped around the group, her instincts telling her which direction to walk, as she meandered around the dusty shelves. Taking a deep breath and stepping around the final corner, her eyes finally landed on him for the first time in months. His hair was slightly longer than she remembered, but still the familiar dirty blonde mussed up into spikes, and he was wearing casual jeans and a blue shirt, that even without looking Peyton knew would bring out the deep blue of his eyes.

His attention was directed off to one side, as he played with the pen between his fingers, and a slender brunette stepped into view, replying with a smile to whatever Lucas was saying. Peyton jerked to a halt, watching the interaction with bated breath. Her heart was pounding in her chest as the brunette woman edged closer to him, raising her eyes to look into his blue eyes, and Peyton noticed how he squinted into his familiar gaze as he nodded in agreement. He reached up to wedge the pen behind his ear, just as the woman touched his other cheek, twisting her fingers into his hair and pressing her lips to his jaw.

Peyton felt her heart stop, and tears blurred her vision. This was the reason why she had not let herself believe in that hopeful feeling, which had now been shattered into a million pieces. Turning quickly on her heels, she fled out of the shop, ignoring all the glances from the other girls, stumbling out onto the street and into the first available cab.

I can picture your face well, From the bar in my hotel,
I wish I'd go to you.

Clunking his glass back down onto the shinny surface of the bar, Lucas gestured to the bartender at the other end for a refill. Today was supposed to be one of his dreams come true, but it had slowly descended into a nightmare. There must be something in this city conspiring against him, and he was quickly beginning to hate California with a passion. Her blonde curls jumped into his mind, and he swirled the alcohol in the crystal glass before swallowing it in one quick gulp to try to erase the image from his brain. She was supposed to be by his side; he always thought that it was written in the stars, that they were always meant to be. He had followed Brooke's advice, pouring all his time and energy into his work to become the best possible version of himself, and he thought he was making progress after he had sent her the very first copy of his book. Her emails seemed slightly guarded, but he knew all about the walls she built around her heart.

Roughly a week ago he broke their silence with a much debated phone call, only pressing the call button after receiving a text message from his brother telling him to 'get over his ego'. He could trust Nathan to cut straight to the heart of the matter. She had seemed nervous on the phone, or possibly excited, or even distracted. It was strange for him not to be able to read her moods, as she had always been like a book to him. Maybe it was because he couldn't look into her deep green eyes while she was talking. Her eyes always gave her away.

Shaking his head, Lucas swallowed the remaining liquid, just as his editor, Lindsey walked into the bar, wearing a grey pencil skirt and a white blouse. They were going out to celebrate the book's success, and he forced his lips into a smile as she approached, pushing all his feelings down. Standing up, he followed her out of the hotel, resting his hand protectively against the small of her back as they waited for the limo to arrive.

I pick up put down the phone, Like your favourite Heatmeiser song goes,
It's just like being alone.

Running his fingers across the screen of his phone, Lucas sighed in frustration and slammed his fist into the nearby wall. He was hiding in the dark corridor connecting the main restaurant to the bathrooms, fighting an internal battle whilst Lindsey sat oblivious in the next room, eating her main course. The past half an hour had been torture for Lucas, with every flash of blonde hair causing his heart to jump, and the alcohol in his system had eventually worn off. After giving the innocent blonde waitress a particularly hateful glare, he had made an excuse of needing the toilet, and literally bolted from their table.

Lucas couldn't keep up the act any longer. He was constantly surrounded by hordes of people, his editor, his publicists and varying numbers of fans, all thinking they knew him because they had read the book. Many of the fans asked about her, how she was doing, and what she thought about being in the book, but Lucas didn't have any of the answers. Instead he plastered on a fake smile, a similar one to what she used to throughout high school, and glossed over the issues. Today the cracks were beginning to show, and as they neared the end of the book signing, his mood was black. He could barely muster a smile for the eager fans, instead choosing to concentrate on the door, trying to will her into existence.

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Lucas ran his fingers through his hair, before walking back into the restaurant. Automatically Lindsey raised her grey eyes, a smile fluttering on her lips as she reached for her wine glass. The girl in front of him was beautiful, creative and intelligent, but there was something missing. Lindsey just couldn't compete with her, and Lucas just didn't feel any spark with her, that much was obvious when she had kissed him earlier. After getting over the initial shock, he had gently explained that they could not blur the lines of their professional relationship, and she had just smiled knowingly. Concentrating on the plate in front of him, Lucas heard a sigh from across the table, and looked up confused.

"Go," she smirked, setting her glass back down onto the table. "Take the limo and I'll get a cab back to the hotel."

Raising his eyebrows at her, she ignored him as she picked her fork back up, and he didn't need telling twice. "Sorry," he whispered an apology, before rising from the table and meandering his way through around the chairs towards the front door. Stumbling into the back seat of the limo, and startling the driver, Lucas mumbled out her address and rested his head back against the seat, hoping that this was the right decision.

Oh God, please don't tell me this has been in vain,
I need answers for what all the waiting I've done means.
You kill me, you've got some nerve, but can't face your mistakes,
I know what I should do, but I just can't turn away.

Standing outside her door, Lucas raised his fist to knock on the white wood, holding his breath as the silence stretched out. He could feel his heart beating against his chest as he tried to formulate his opening words. Considering he was a writer it was as if no words had ever been written, and the longer he thought about it, the more words started to evade him, until all that was left stuck inside his brain was her name.

On the other side of the door he could hear approaching footsteps, quickly followed by a loud bang and her cursing. A smirk graced his lips, and his heart beat surged just hearing her voice. The lock on the door clicked, and it slowly swung inwards, revealing her figure to him for the first time in months. Dragging his gaze up her long exposed legs, Lucas took in the hem of her pink skirt and up over a strangely familiar grey sweatshirt to her face. He locked his blue eyes onto her green ones, and a surge of pain flowed through him from her, and he took a step backwards in confusion.

Scanning her face, he noticed the dried tear tracks marking her cheeks, and he longed to brush them away with his fingertips, but something in her posture told him not to. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he glanced away sheepishly, before remembering that she hadn't shown up today and his annoyance flared back up again.

"What do you want?" she questioned, crossing her arms over her chest and blocking the entrance to her apartment defiantly. Whatever had been upsetting her earlier was now replaced with anger, burning with fire behind her eyes.

"Hi Peyton," he mumbled, the only words that would come to his mind. Standing so close to her was affecting his concentration. She stood and stared at him for a few more seconds, before turning on her heel and disappeared inside her apartment, leaving the door half open and Lucas wondering if that was an invitation to come in or not. Pressing his palm against the smooth wood, he edged around the door, his eyes flashing around her sparse living room, locating her curled up on the windowsill on the opposite side of the space.

So go on love,
Leave while there's still hope for escape.
Got to take what you can these days.
There's so much ahead,
So much regret.

Curling up on the windowsill, leaning against the cold glass, Peyton wrapped her arms around her chest, eyeing the door furtively as Lucas pushed it open and walked into her living room. She wished desperately that she had thrown a different sweatshirt over her dress when she got home, but she must have picked it up subconsciously, wanting to feel safe and secure. Discreetly running her fingers underneath her eyes, a movement that didn't go unnoticed by Lucas, she refused to meet his gaze.

'Still as stubborn as ever,' Lucas noted, placing the sweatshirt as his old Keith Scott Body Shop hoody, something she must have stolen from him during high school, and raising his eyebrows at her. "How are you?" he ventured, clicking the front door closed and stepping further into the room.

Rolling her eyes, Peyton shifted uncomfortably on the windowsill. "Go back to your girlfriend Lucas," she threw back at him, twisting around and staring out of the window.

"Girlfriend? What girlfriend?" he questioned confused, walking around the back of her sofa, unable to explain the forces pulling him towards her.

"The brunette girl that was kissing you earlier," she mumbled, watching the traffic below.

Lucas' jaw dropped open, stopping him in his tracks and staring at her. His heart was pounding against his chest. "You where there?" he questioned quietly, hope rising in his heart, and his body moved without his consent until he was standing directly in front of her. "Peyt?" he whispered, reaching out and spinning her around so that they were facing each other. "You came to the book signing today?"

"Y... yeah," she replied, glancing upwards for a split second before lowering her gaze to her knees. She hated the way her voice cracked, and the way he still had a hold over her. Each time she looked into his eyes, her resolve weakened slightly.

Without warning Lucas tightened his grip on her shoulders, sliding her to the edge of the sill and stepping forwards in between her knees. He saw that she was going to protest, but he quickly silenced it by pressing his lips to hers. The sparks immediately flew between the two, and he slid his hand up from her shoulder to tangle into her hair to pull her closer.

I know what you want to say,
I know it but can't help feeling differently.
I loved you, and I should have said it,
But tell me just what has it ever meant.

Peyton melted into his kiss, unable to stop the whimper from escaping her lips as his tongue ran over her lower lip. Her fingers automatically drifted over his chest, tangling themselves into the material of his shirt, and for a second she allowed her heart to feel. The surge of emotions caused her brain to clunk back into gear, and she push against his chest, forcing him away and sliding as far back as possible on the wide ledge.

"Peyt?" he questioned, taking a small step forwards again, but stopping when she flinched backwards.

"How dare you!" she snapped, pulling the sleeves of his sweatshirt down over her hands to prevent herself from touching him again. "I refuse to become the other woman again Lucas. This isn't high school anymore."

"Peyt, it's not like that. Lindsey and I aren't together," Lucas replied, looking into her green eyes and seeing the fire burning inside. His fingers automatically itched for a pen as words flooded back through him.

Shaking her head, Peyton slid off the windowsill, stepping around him carefully and padding barefoot across her wooden floors, keen to put some distance between their bodies. Lucas watched, confusion etched on every line of his face, and his eyes landed on the book open on her coffee table. It was his book, opened somewhere near the middle, the spine worn from over reading, causing the pages to lie flat against the surface.

"This isn't the copy that I sent you," Lucas spoke, the scenario of her throwing his first edition book into the trash ripped through his heart, as he crossed the room to pick up the paperback version, noticing the dog-eared pages.

"No, I've only read that copy once," she mumbled, and she saw the relief cross his face. Since coming home she had spent the last couple of hours curled up on her sofa with a copy of his book, desperately trying to read between the lines, whilst at the same time building a stronger wall around her heart.

"That copy?" he questioned, glancing around her apartment. "How many copies do you own?" he wondered, raising his eyebrow and noticing the pink flush that crept up her cheeks.

"I don't know... a few," she replied, running her fingers agitatedly through her lank blonde curls, determined not to look him in the eye as she edged towards her kitchen.

"Peyton, will you stand still for a moment and listen to me?" Lucas closed the gap between them once again. "Nothing is going on between me and Lindsey, she is just my editor and she was congratulating me earlier," he saw the disbelief as she lowered her eyes, and he reached out to touch her chin to make her look at him again. "I have spent the last year working on this book for you. Every word I have ever written was for you, to prove how much I love you."

Peyton could see the sincerity in his eyes, and her heart beat painfully in her chest. His fingers on her chin were blurring the lines that she had been determined not to cross, but she couldn't help it when a lone tear slid down her cheek.

Tracing his thumb across her jaw, Lucas brushed the tear away, wrapping his other am around her waist and pulling her gently against his chest. "It's you, Peyton. It's always been you," he whispered into her curls, and he felt her slender fingers tangle into the front of his shirt again. "Today was supposed to be a dream come true, and you were supposed to be standing next to me. I need you to be standing next to me."

I can't help it baby, this is who I am,
Sorry, but I can't just go turn off how I feel.
You kill me, you build me up, but just to watch me break,
I know what I should do, but I just can't walk away.

Peyton absorbed his words, more tears trailing down her cheeks and soaking into his shirt. His warm body pressed against her was messing with her head, and she was just waiting for the moment when he pulled the rug out from under her feet and walked back out of the door. "You can't do this to me Luke," she sniffed, unable to move herself away from his protective hold. "The last time you walked away from me almost broke me, and I can't go through that again."

"Peyt, baby I'm not going anywhere this time, please believe that," he spoke, pushing her gently away from his chest to look into her eyes. "I was wrong to ambush you the last time I was here. It might take you a while for you to trust me again, but I have all the time in the world to make you believe me."

He reached up to brush one of her curls back, and her body responded without her consent. Rising onto her toes, Peyton pressed her lips against his, pausing to pull back slightly to look into his eyes for a second, before sliding her hand into his short blonde spikes and tugging his lips back down to meet hers.

Lucas looked at her in surprise, his lips moving automatically with hers, until his brain caught up with his body. His eyes fluttered closed, and he moved in synch with her, sliding his hands underneath the sweatshirt she was wearing to wrap his arms around her slender frame to pull her closer. He was surprised that he had forgotten how well she fit against his body, almost like she had been designed that way. He felt her teeth gently tug on his lower lip, her way of telling him to stop thinking so much, and he concentrated on the feel of her lips against his.

Peyton untangled her fingers from his shirt, moving her hand up his chest to press against his shoulder, forcing him to take a step backwards, only this time she moved with him, until they crashed against the wall. She felt his body jerk with surprise, which she used to her advantage, running her the tip of her tongue against his lower lip and smothering the moan that escaped his throat.

She felt his body react instinctively, flipping them around so that she was trapped between his body and the wall, and he freed one of his hands to wrap his fingers around hers, raising it above her head and pressing it against the wall.

"Peyton," he growled out, detaching his lips from hers to leave a trail of kisses down her jaw to a spot on her neck which instantly turned her legs to mush, causing him to support her weight. The way the short, sharp breaths were leaving her body brought out his animalistic side, and he paused for a second to look into her eyes, reading every emotion that was flooding through her body. "Hey," he whispered, releasing her hand from the wall, moving his fingers to cup her cheek. Moving a couple of inches back to give her breathing room, he noticed that her fingers wrapped around his shirt again, almost like she was holding on to a lifeline. "Peyt, its okay," he pulled her gently against his chest again, dropping an innocent kiss into her curls. Guiding her gently to the sofa, he pulled her down onto his lap, quietly running his fingers through her curls comfortingly as her dam broke.

Her shoulders shook, as the emotion ripped through her slender frame, and Lucas could feel every sensation, understanding for the first time how much he had hurt her when he disappeared from that hotel room. She was terrified of people leaving, and he just added to her statistics, breaking her heart in the process.

Whispering soothing words, her tears eventually subsided and she looked up with hazy eyes. "Take me home Luke," she murmured, seeing the hope flash through his eyes and his hold on her increased slightly. "All of my dreams are tied up in you, and I can't live here, without you, for a moment longer."

Twisting slightly on his lap, Peyton pressed her lips against his in a chaste kiss, and she felt his lips curve upwards into a smile. "Okay, let's go home, Peyt," he whispered, pressing a small kiss to her lips once more, pulling her even closer. This time he wouldn't be letting her go.

Let me know what you think :) xx