hallfhearted:

had he planned to get attached to someone so soon after pressing the reset button?   of course not.   he had a messed up track record of throwing matches on every win life threw his way  ,  &  moving to a new town where nobody knew who was he or what he was capable of was supposed to be his chance at a fresh start.   in tree hill , he could be whoever he wanted to be.   he could be nothing at all.   or  ,  just maybe  ,  he could be the person he’d always wanted to be  —  as soon as he figured out who that guy was.

naturally  ,  every chance at laying low & getting his crap together flew out the window the second he caught a glimpse of his next door neighbor.   for a while  ,  he’d done a pretty decent job of fooling himself  ,  pretending he could play nail-the-cheerleader & get on with his life like he’d done so many times in the past.   turns out  ,  the cheerleader had a few tricks of her own.   he’d question day after day why he was trying so hard when he could just as easily walk up to rachel or bevin & have a date for friday night  ,  until finally it hit him.   he wasn’t knee deep in a puddle of his own making  —  he’d started a monsoon he could not stop.

every last inclination that forever screamed to fall back had in turn been shunned by his own desires,  &  if he really had to face his demons  ,  there was no way he’d be doing it alone.   no  ,  like it or not  ,  he was taking her down with him.   the frown mashed between his lips as she rambles excuse after excuse speaks for itself  —  he’s not buying it.   even if she is telling the truth  ,  there has to be more to the story.

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   yeah  ,  you seem real busy.       the arc of his jaw indicates the bag of food in her hand  ,  soon to be taken home to that big  ,  empty house with the cherry red door.   already  ,  he begins to cave.     look  ,  i get it  —  we kissed ,  & it was amazing  ,  & now you’re freaking out.   but we don’t have to talk about it  ,  alright?   we don’t have to talk about anything.   i just miss you.    ❛    /   @brookesmxrt

    She hates him — hates how he sees right through her bullshit to the mess that lies beneath the surface, hates how he manages to disarm her with a single look, hates that he believes he has the right to do any & all of the above.  & yet – she does not hate him at all – not in the way that burns fiery at the very core of her being – it’s another sort of heat, more akin to sparks than outright flames. It’s not that she really & truly feels disdain towards him, rather that she hates the way he makes her feel  (  like maybe it’s worth her time to let another hold her fragile heart in their grasp. like maybe its worth risking the hurt all over again. like maybe he won’t be like the others that came before. like maybe he’ll be the one to stay.  like maybe – if she allowed herself – she could love him  ). 

    Gaze averts once more, cheeks flushing white hot ( under the surface she burns – oh  g o d  does she burn ). Again, he’s managed to call her out – it should frighten her how well he knows her – or more-so that he’s willing to show how well he knows her. Most would fear the wrath it’d incite from the most popular girl in town, but not him. Her status doesn’t shy him away – maybe it only pushes him further, to get beyond the reputation to the girl that exists beyond it.  

    It’s not fair that she’s being forced to stand before him & confess. She would have been content to shove down her feelings, so deep that she would forget the road she needs to travel down to reach them, but it seems he won’t allow it. It’s time to face the music – to admit defeat – despite her brain screaming out to run  ( her heart tells her something entirely different – & although it is littered with patches & held together by lousy stitching, perhaps it’s time to listen to it  ). ‘

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    “ — do you want to forget about it ??” Words are spoken in a very un-Brooke Davis manner  ( hesitant & unsure & everything in between ).  She needs to know if only to placate her own nerves.  “– I miss you too.” It’s been unsettling, coming home to an empty house – keeping her bedroom shade drawn at all times as to not even catch a glimpse of the neighbor boy object of her affections. “I don’t know what you want from me here.” 

 



 b r i l l i a n t 

i'm not book smart
I'm brooke smart
and there is a big difference.

 b e a u t i f u l 

independent & private
brooke davis
from one tree hill

est. july 2014
archived november 2016
written by liz

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