So I've been doing a lot of reading recently, and trying to draw some influences from an array of writers to my own writing. And this is what was born. It's not quite my usual style, but I hope you like. Lyrics belong to Keane.

...

He imagines a different life, different circumstances. Maybe if things were different, they could have been together, really together.

If they'd have met sooner in life. If they'd grown up together or studied at the same college. If…maybe there'd have been a Lucas and Peyton.

As it was they grew up on opposite sides of the country; him in his small town of Tree Hill, North Carolina and her in the Surfer's paradise of Huntington Beach, California. Following school they both went to local colleges in their home states. By the time Lucas came to the West Coast he'd already met the girl he thought was 'The One' and had a ring on her finger. Then he met Peyton Sawyer.

Now is the time of our comfort and plenty
These are the days we've been working for
Nothing can touch us and nothing can harm us
And nothing goes wrong anymore

She's in a light summer dress, her soft blonde curls tamed away from her face with a silky scarf. She smiles, and pulls open the door for him. There's a record playing and the sun lazing in through the blinds.

"I'm nearly ready, I promise." Her voice sings along the hallway as she pads away from him, her hips swaying lightly ahead of his eyes.

His eyebrows arch skyward, suspicious, but he's smiling too. Her tardiness doesn't bother him, he'll wait. He follows her to the bedroom, her bag lying empty on the floor. Her eyes watch him carefully, waiting for a sign that says he's caught her out.

She distracts herself at the dressing table, searching for a necklace. He's soon behind her, his warm breath on her neck and his hand settling over her stomach. His other hand reaches down and bunches the hem of her dress, his fingers wrinkling the material as he lifts it to expose her thigh. His stubble grazes her collar bone as he lays kisses over her soft skin.

She feeds from his touch, spinning in his embrace. Her face is alight with surprise and thrill. Her fingers brush along his shirt collar and down his chest, popping the buttons expertly.

Leaving the route plan on the dresser, his hands give her their full attention. She grips onto his bicep as it flexes, holding her. They kiss, long and grieving, for one another. Her hands are in his short hair and around his ear; his are all over her. His fingers catch on the scarf tying her hair back, and he pulls, her ringlets fly free. The straps from her dress are fallen, and his shirt is hanging rough down his back.

She's gorgeous, he thinks, dishevelled and devilish. Braless too. And for this weekend, unforgivably only this weekend, she's his.

He pushes the thought away from his mind; the one that reminds him that this is their last foray. He owes it to her. God, he owes her so much more than that. But it's all that he can give to her. As an apology. A memory. A wish.

Singing a song with your feet on the dashboard
The cigarette streaming into the night
These are the things that I want to remember
I want to remember you by

He loves to drive her car. It's probably because for a short while it becomes theirs when he's behind the wheel. They leave the city and their lives behind them. She's curled at his side on the bench, her head settled on his chest and her hand slipped around him, as though taking ownership. His heart always beats a little faster when she does that, he knows, and since her head's resting there over his heart, she knows it too.

This isn't a new event for them; sneaking out of town together. Their bodies pressed tightly together and their breath entwined in the air. They've done the dirty motels, the quiet middle of nowhere getaways and the make do business trips.

Sometimes she's quiet and pensive. He knows they're the moments when she's wrestling with her conscience and telling herself that she's doing something wrong. Which of course they are but nothing this wrong has ever felt this right, to either of them. He hates that it causes her so much worry.

They're good people, he reminds her, but there's a look in her eye like she doesn't quite believe him. And that makes him love her just that little bit more because she's so morally just.

The best journeys they've shared are the ones when she lets go. When all of her walls come down and she lets him see the real her. Free and funny and flirty. That's the Peyton he just can't get enough of.

Today she puts a CD on at the highest volume possible, lies back and sings every single word. Lucas isn't sure whether she's enjoying his company at all when she does this or she's too absorbed in the music to even know that he's there. He doesn't care either way. Just to see her with a permanent smile and such clarity in her eyes is enough for him to not want for anything more.

They won't come again,
'cause love is the end
Oh no, my friend,
Love is the end

"I think I'm falling in love with you, Luke."

There's a moment when his heart performs somersaults. And then he sees the tears sailing down her cheeks.

Instantly he jumps to her and wipes away her sadness with the pads of his thumbs, "Shh, it's okay."

"It's not okay." She whispers back. She's right it's not okay but it doesn't change the way that he feels about her. He realised a while ago that he was falling for her. Falling hard.

She stays frozen, perched on the edge of the bed staring to the wall with a glassy look in her eye. For a moment, the driest of smiles finds her lips. "But I can't love you, Lucas Scott."

His gaze is firm, determined almost, "I don't want you to ever feel sorry for what we have, for feeling this way."

Peyton runs her long fingers through her curls and sniffs away the tears. She's never been able to kid him though. "I'm the other woman, Lucas. How do you expect me to feel?"

Sighing heavily, he sinks down onto the bed beside her and presses a kiss into the crown of her head. He closes his eyes as her words revolve around his head. He hates that she feels this way, and that it's his fault. "Peyt,"

"No." She shakes her head and turns her deep stare to him, "Luke, I can't hear the apologies anymore. I can't. I shouldn't have said anything."

He doesn't say another word. He just pulls her in tight, flush against his body and kisses at her neck. It's the only way he knows to comfort her without words.

She throws her head back and forgets. Because now isn't the time to dwell on the fact that this boy isn't hers. Now is the time to enjoy his hands around her waist and his lips on hers. It's time to pretend.

I took off my clothes and I ran to the ocean
Looking for somewhere to start anew
And when I was drowning in that holy water
All I could think of was you

The ocean's dark; inky, inviting, deep and endless. Her eyes glisten and he laughs. She takes his hand and pulls him along the sand, her hand gripping tightly onto his. He watches her legs, with only the moon for light, stretching forwards, dashing towards the sea. She smirks back at him, knowing yet cautious, but beautifully free. He wishes he could give her this everyday.

The water licks at their feet, cool and refreshing. The world seems miles away; the city behind them is dull, quiet and forgotten. All the colour in the world is gone, aside from her.

Her brow arches and then she pulls them both down, crashing and yelping and laughing. They break through the water together, his arms safely around her waist. His eyes watch her lips as she smiles. He could live from this feeling.

Her eyes glisten up at him, holding his dreams, in their depths. In those glowing emeralds he can see the life he's always dreamt of. She holds it all there, cradled so carefully.

Oh my friend,
love is the end
So lets not pretend,
'cause love is the end

She leans her head against his shoulder, her damp curls against his skin. He wraps his jacket around her bare shoulders and she hums lightly, contently. He can't help but think of how easy it is with her, so carefree and unspoken. Her fingers tickle at his back, absently as she stares into the vastness of the ocean before them, lapping at the sand.

He loves her, with everything in his soul. He doesn't tell her, he doesn't need to. She knows, but it's painful to hear. It's better to keep the arrangement as unspoken and denied, even though they both feel it embedded in their bones. But if he dares to tell her, it would ruin the moment and the fantasy. He doesn't want reality looming over them again, not yet.

He likes the way the sky stretches over them, in every direction he looks, it's there, like a blanket. That sky of a thousand stars, shining down. The same sky that appears every evening. He likes that no matter where they go in life, and how far away they are from one another, they'll always be under those same stars. He thinks that maybe that could push him on, maybe.

Leaning over, he brushes a stray strand of hair from her face. On the edge of his lips are promises, questions and declarations. He presses them away with a swift smile. Her eyes, those eyes, gleam up at him.

He'd give up forever to keep this moment for her.

Take it back, don't let it die
Or rage against the fall of night
'cause I still do depend on you
So don't say those words that wrung me through

He strokes his hands along her skin, softly, almost without thinking about it. She wonders if he does this to his other girl. She hates the wild jealousy that engulfs her sometimes. He's the kindest soul she's ever met; she can't imagine him being anything but the perfect gentleman to his girl at home. She doesn't ask him though; she doesn't want to know the truth, and she doesn't want to be lied to. Both would hurt.

So she sighs into his embrace, his chest warm against her's. "What did you want to be when you were a kid?" She asks in a soft voice.

"Easy," He replies swiftly in a gravely tone, "A basketball player."

She nods into the pillow. His brother's a basketball player, she knows, she even met him once. It should have been awkward, she supposes but the darker haired Scott was gracious and kind to her. She caught the look he threw to Lucas though; wary and dark. It had made her a little ashamed.

Her fingertips trace over his chest, she can feel his heart thumping strongly beneath her skin. It calms her. She knows it's that heart that she loves that took his basketball dreams away.

"And you?" He whispers, sleep close by.

"I wanted a bakery." She laughs lightly. "See, my Mom and I used to bake, on a Sunday. She was amazing in the kitchen. I don't think I realised I wasn't until I was about fifteen."

He squeezes her tighter, knowing that any memory of her Mom is tinged with sadness. He imagines her at nine years old, facing life without her Mom, and it breaks his heart.

She doesn't say anymore. She presses her eyes shut, to shield him from any threatening tears. She wanted to be a baker, but much more than that, she wanted to be someone's wife, someone's mother; someone's world.

Woah, oh oh
Love is the end
So let's not pretend,
'cause love is the end

He watches her carefully in the morning. Her eyes are puffy and she looks fragile, breakable. And he knows that he's the one to have made her that way. They fell too fast, but by then it was too late. He should never have started this dance. He should never have stopped to ask her name. He should have let her go.

Instead he introduced himself with an easy smile and a soft brush of his hand against her arm. Not once did he give any indication that he wasn't single. He didn't want to. He feared he'd lose her, before he even had her at all. It wasn't fair to her. He could see that now; the traces of the scars he'd left upon her heart. But he didn't regret it; he couldn't regret it. He would never see falling in love with Peyton Sawyer as a mistake.

She's packing her bag, haphazardly and rushed. Her thin fingers bundle and grasp at the clothes, fiercely, before she throws them carelessly into the holdall. Lucas sets down the newspaper and crosses the room to smooth his hands over her shoulders. She stills in his arms immediately. She's unmoving for a moment and then he feels the shuddering of her whole body beneath his strong hands.

"Shh," He instructs softly, pushing his own tears away. He turns her in his arms and clutches her slender body into his embrace. And he holds her there, like the whole world could crash down around them and he'd still be holding her tight, never letting go.

She doesn't want to go home. To her cold empty apartment. Back to the loneliness. He doesn't want that for her either.

Eventually she flails away from him, wilting before his eyes. She pretends to be strong, but she shouldn't have to.

"Okay," He settles his heavy blue eyes on her and reaches for her hand. "I love you."

At the words she turns her head, but hand remains inside his.

"I don't see why we can't say it, Peyt, when all I do is feel it." He begs at her with that pleading expression of his.

Her voice is a hushed whisper, broken, "Because we're not supposed to feel it. We were never meant to get this far in, Luke!"

"Maybe we were." He throws back at her, "Maybe we were supposed to share this incredible feeling. We were supposed to meet, we had to, because I can't imagine not knowing you."

Her head turns back to him and her expression crumbles, "I can't imagine not knowing you. I can't, Luke, I don't want to give you up."

"I will always be there for you, Peyton." He vows.

She only wishes the words were as true as the sentiment behind them.

So I tread the only road
The only road I know
Nowhere to go, but home
Nowhere to go

Blinking back his tears, he looks back at her, stood on the kerb, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist and the wind in her hair. And he drives away.

When he's not two blocks away, he pulls his car over and puts his head in his hands. It's three hours more before he completes the forty minute drive back to his house.

He shuffles his heavy feet up the porch steps and clicks the door open. The house is quiet and still, it's late.

"Lucas," The voice calls out from the dark, worried but irritable together.

"Hey," He drops his bag down and opens his arms to her. He can't speak right now, it would give him away. So he takes his girl up into his arms and presses a swift kiss to her temple.

A concerned frown crosses her features, "Is everything alright?"

He nods, "I'm fine. How about you, everything okay here?"

She smiles finally and together the two soon to be parents cover her swelling stomach with a hand. Her smile grows and he manages a weak return.

"We're glad you're home." She whispers.

He doesn't say the same back to her, but when she glances up there are tears in his eyes. Her eyes sparkle with admiration for the father of her child.

His mind is flooded with images of memories created over the past two days. Moments he aches for, times that he craves. A girl he misses already, with all of his heart.

Maybe our time is up
But still you can't look back
But all the principles of love
Don't say those words

She pushes the cart around the store inattentively. Aside from cotton wool, bread and milk, her cart's empty. Recently she hasn't felt much inspired to cook, or eat for that matter. She's perusing the lines when she feels eyes on her.

She turns slowly and her eyes fall over a familiar face, with startling blue eyes that are looking right into her. She gasps a little, not knowing whether to run towards him or away. As it is she stay rooted to the spot, and he comes over to her.

It's suitably awkward, of course, but he's a gentleman. It's not nearly as awkward as it should be.

Cocking a smile he sidles his cart up beside hers. His is full, she notes.

"Peyton," He greets gently, almost cautiously.

Quickly she composes herself and brings a ready clear expression to her face. All she can think of in her mind is that his wife must be about here somewhere.

"How are you doing?" He asks, his brow furrowing at her nervousness. He thinks of reaching out to brush her arm, as a source of comfort, but it's not his place.

She shrugs her skinny shoulders and revolves those heavy emerald eyes of hers back at him. Her voice whispers back at him, "I'll survive."

It's a sad answer, he thinks. She should be doing more than plain surviving. He shakes his head at her, "I'm sorry. It was a dumb question."

She laughs a little, "No, Nathan, it was a dumb answer."

"There's a huge elephant here, right?" He chances, that little grin of his still wary over his lips, "Don't tell me I'm the only one who can see it."

Rolling her eyes again she finally smiles, "That elephant's pink and dancing."

"Thought so." He sighs. He can't not like the girl, and he most definitely should not be starting up conversations with her in the produce aisle, but there's something about her. It might be the fact that she really is Lucas' other half. "I should go,"

"Yeah." Her hands grip onto the cart, bracing herself against any comment he's going to leave her with. She wants to ask, so many things, but she's not sure she wants to hear his answers.

"For what it's worth," Nathan pauses and shakes his head, almost regretting his decision to say anything.

Her eyes are pressed shut but she whispers to him, "I can take it."

"He really wasn't ever happier." Nathan cringes, lightly touches his hand to her shoulder and then leaves, before he causes anymore damage. She stays there for three minutes, remembering why she didn't ask any of those questions, because the answers really were hard to take.

Don't say those words
Don't say those words
Don't say those words

He sits in the rocking chair, tired eyes gazing down at his baby son. The little boy yawns and nestles closer to his father. Lucas gazes out at the dark night sky, and smiles wryly.

She's out there somewhere, under that sky of theirs. His girl.

He looks down at the newborn in his arms, a single tear trailing down his cheek. "I wish I could love the two of you together."

…

I'm so incredibly sorry that I can't seem to write happy Leyton. But thank you for reading. If you want to be involved in something more cheerful, you could check out the forum I've created. It's a place for people to leave story prompts; ideas/lyrics/a line or two…anything, just leave a comment and maybe someone will write a fic for it! Or just come and say hi! Please spread the word too.

http:/ forum. fanfiction. net /forum/Story_Prompts/107161/

Lexie x