Inspiration struck me randomly. BL one-shot. Future
I may do a sequel...depending on reviews
Silent Tears
She didn't need to turn around to know that he was entering the room. She felt his presence, even before he lay a soft hand against her bare shoulder. She closed her eyes with his touch, feeling the cool pressure of his skin against hers.
She opened her eyes and he was with her in the mirror, looking her over with his electrifying blue eyes. He smiled, but it was a sad smile, for they both knew this had to end soon.
"You look gorgeous," he murmured, as he pressed his lips to her head of hair, and breathed in the comforting scent of her shampoo. The smell that she would leave on his pillow, before disappearing once more.
She nodded, whispering an odd "thanks" in a tone that would not let her cry. She leaned into his strong form, let her weight push against him. Her breath fall with his.
He trailed his finger down the soft material along the back of her white dress, letting his hand come to rest against the small of her back. She let out a suppressed sigh, and calmly whispered, "Lucas, don't."
He didn't stop, leaning to kiss her shoulder, her collarbone, her neck, her cheek. He needed to touch her one last time, end with a kiss that he could move on with.
She began to cry silent tears, mascara running against her cheek. He soothed her with his soft voice, turning her around, wrapping her fragile form in his strong arms.
"You have to go. Anyone could come in." She could barely make out the words; wouldn't let herself look into his hurting eyes.
"Brooke…Brooke." Even repeating her name made the pain go away sometimes.
He pulled up her chin, make her look at him. Leaning down, he rested his forehead against hers, let their noses touch.
Their lips were centimeters away. He quickly closed the gap in a fluid movement, letting the inevitable kiss make it's way into reality. But as soon as it began, it was over, Brooke pulling away unexpectedly.
"No Lucas, you can't keep doing this. I'm getting married, for gods sake."
"Why?" the question was so simple, as if he thought she could give him an uncomplicated answer.
"You know why."
His hands went to her stomach, which was just beginning to bulge outward, but not enough to be noticeable. The wedding plans were hurried – Brooke didn't want to walk down the aisle with whispers of "child out of wedlock" ringing through her ears.
In the society she grew up in, this is what she was supposed to do. Find a steady man, marry him, reproduce.
"I wish it was mine," he whispered to her, his utmost desire spilling from his lips. And when he managed to look at her, the expression capturing her face surprised him. He saw uncertainty and pain. But most of all – he saw a secret.
She was crying again – and he knew. His hand quickly withdrew from her abdomen, as if burned. "It is, isn't it?"
All it took was a quick nod, and Lucas took a step back. They stood, just inches apart, an uncomfortable silence settling over them. Finally, he managed to speak, only his words were restrained, strangled.
"How – how could you not tell me?"
She couldn't speak. Opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
"You were just going to marry him, let him think – let me think – that you were carrying his baby?"
"You deserve better, Luke."
"Better?" he spat. "Better than spending the rest of my life with my child and the woman I love? Because last time I checked, that's pretty much the best it can get."
"Lucas…"
"How could you?" he pushed on. "You had absolutely no right."
Finally, words came out. A strength in her voice was somehow released.
"I did what I thought was best. I can't let my child grow up with a dad who's as unreliable and unstable as an earthquake."
"What are you talking about? How could I ever leave you?"
"You left Peyton and Sarah."
There was a silence. What he had once thought he'd been forgiven for, was now pushed back and shoved in his face.
"I didn't love Peyton."
Brooke gave him a sad smile. "You used to."
"That doesn't mean I'm unreliable. I still support them. I still visit – I'm still in their lives. I didn't exactly abandon them."
"You don't get it, do you Lucas?" Brooke was pacing the room now. "I don't want a guy who's just 'there for us.' I don't want my child to have a dad who's just going to 'hop' in on sporadic weekends, and pay for tuition to a fancy private school, and buy him or her expensive presents out of guilt. I want my child to have a dad who will take them to the park on Saturday's, and pick them up from school, and come in on career day."
"But I would do that." Lucas approached Brooke and grabbed her hands. "I love you. I've always loved you."
She yanked her hands away. "Yeah you told me that senior year. And then again in college, and then again after we graduated. But Luke – you told Peyton that too. How do I know you're not going to change your mind again next week?"
"Because – because I don't have a reason. Ok? I always had some excuse for why I loved Peyton. I could always explain it more. We are more similar, we fight less. But you and me, Brooke? We are nothing alike! We fight all the time!" He was almost yelling at her now. "But the only person who's ever occupying my mind is you. How come that isn't enough?"
She digested this speech, taking in his words, which she had expected to do nothing, but instead had broken down her barriers. Finally, she managed to speak in a whisper.
"It's just not."
A defeated look fell across his face, and unexpectedly she could hear the music begin to ring through the church. From where they stood in the anteroom, she knew this was her cue. Reaching up, she touched his cheek. "I'm sorry Luke. But I gotta' go."
He grabbed her arm as she turned away. "Don't do this. Please, don't."
"I'm sorry," she whispered through her tears. She took a step towards the door.
When she looked back, she saw something so heart-breaking, it made her stop in her tracks.
Broody was crying.
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