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Trashed and Scattered

Chapter Forty-Nine: Perfect Places

The group was just pulling their respective boats into the shore as a sea of unruly clouds brewed overhead. The sun hid away, frightened off by the thunder cracking off in the distance. The group exchanged knowing looks, promptly quickening their pace to cut off the storm before it could rain down.
As they began to trickle back to the cabin, Brian lingered at the base of the trail for Peyton. She was distracted by the darkened sky, memorizing its finest lines and deepest hues. She'd always held a wild fascination for storms of all varieties; in another, possibly braver, lifetime, she was sure she'd have been a storm chaser. But in this life, she settled on painting the evil her body couldn't contain. Brian dissected her distraction, regaling in her effortless vulnerability. The longing drawn out across her features was easy to transcribe. It only figured, Brian thought to himself, that Peyton would find solace in storms.
The rain began to fall haphazardly against the shoulders of every soul still left in its wake. They scattered more compulsively, abandoning one another for the promise of shelter. Nevertheless, Peyton maintained her stance. She was so caught up in the rolling clouds she hadn't noticed a single droplet roll against her bare arms.
Jimmy watched from the treeline, Peyton's curiosity jogging deadened memories within him. It felt like yesterday that they'd climbed inside her playhouse to watch the lightning through the cracks in the wooden ceiling. They'd talk about life and about their plans; none of which involved miles between them. Everything had been simpler then. Everything was routed and they'd known exactly which direction North lay. But now it was complicated, endlessly burdened with obstacles and landmines. Like it or not, Peyton and Jimmy had brewed their own rain. It poured violently against the windows of their lives, every other drop gracing the cracks with precision. The sills were damp, the panes muddied with fog. Nevertheless, the glass held out, keeping the storm at bay for another night.
"Get me inside," Natalie giggled, sheltering her head with her hands.
Jimmy's eyes refocused, pulling back from the past and into the present. His heart ached with each root he pulled up from Peyton's soil. He smiled down at Natalie, opening an arm for her to squeeze beneath.
"I've got you," he assured her, escorting her away from the shore and away from his misery.
Natalie smiled meekly at Brian as they strode passed. She longed for the days when someone had looked at her the way Brian was staring at Peyton. And she pretended not to notice Jimmy acting as a reflection.
"Hey!" Brian finally called, reluctant to break her trance.
Peyton's eyes moved over to meet his, she gestured out to the open water as the black clouds moved swiftly toward them, "Isn't this the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?"
"No," Brian laughed. "And getting struck by lightning isn't on the top of my to-do list!"
Peyton couldn't help her smile, "You're killing my joy."
"I know," he grinned. "And I'm sorry. But I seriously don't want you to die so can you please get the fuck over here?"
It was possibly the most politely rude instruction she'd ever received. Eager to relieve Brian's obvious stress, Peyton abandoned her post. She glanced once more over her shoulder just as a fork of lightning broke free from its prison and lashed out at the earth just passed the horizon. The thunder sounded closely behind, bellowing out from deep in the forest. The boom nearly deafened the only two left on the shore.
"Peyton," Brian pleaded, desperate now to get out of the open.
"I'm sorry," she rushed, jogging to Brian's side. "I can't help it."
He smiled at her, "Tell you what, let's go back, get some dry fuckin' clothes on and we'll drink coffee on the deck and watch your stupid storm."
"Really?" Peyton asked excitedly, her enthusiasm like a child's.
He laughed, endlessly caught off guard by her appreciation for the simplest gestures, "Sure."
To his surprise, Peyton rolled onto the tips of her toes, steadying herself with her hands pushed against his chest. She pressed her lips gently against his cheek, collapsing his spine into itself.
"You're nice," she smirked as she pulled away. "Anyone ever tell you that?"
Brian grinned, "Honestly? Not really."
He laced his arm around her shoulders, forcing her away from the water and along the trail that led to shelter. The rain pelted the earth with a fury, bouncing off the soil like shrapnel from a bullet. They pushed through the door, shuddering from the cool rain dripping from their skin. The house was strangely quiet, everyone tucked into their respective rooms seeking warmth and dry cloth.
Brian and Peyton walked silently to their shared room, Brian disappearing at the last second and leaving Peyton on her own. She headed straight for her bag, pulling at the fibers of each article until she found something suitably warm. Her eyes danced around the room, unsure whether or not to strip down with the assumption of privacy. If ever she let Brian peruse her nakedness, it wasn't going to be an accidental stumble in on her changing.
Before the uncertainty could sink its teeth too far into her bones, Brian appeared sporting a black towel. He shook it at her as if to show off a carnival prize. He stretched it out, wrapping Peyton's shivering body up into its warmth. She melted.
As he ran his hands slowly up and down her arms, he felt himself falling further into the inevitable. It seemed as if every time he was granted the opportunity to get close with Peyton, he couldn't quite grip the reins. He had no control; couldn't move it forward, couldn't hold it steady, and certainly couldn't draw back. But Peyton was a master artist and drew away from him with refined skill.
She didn't this time. She let Brian's body inch slowly closer until their chests were breathing in unison. His deep doe eyes dug into her emeralds, like an archaeological dig for fossils and forgotten relics. He was desperate to find the glimmer in Peyton he'd accidentally dug up several times before. As his gaze fell to her lips, he felt her breathing shift.
"Brian," she whispered, his name hanging in the thick air between them.
He swallowed hard, struggling to formulate something audible, "I know."
She couldn't bring herself to step away. She knew she should, she knew that she was playing with fire. But Jimmy had already burned her fingertips beyond repair. He'd met her reaches with ambivalence. Brian was here. Brian was welcoming her advances, preying on the moments where her armor would rust and weaken. If only, he thought, he could squeeze through a crack, he might be able to stay inside. She might just let him in.
A knock at the door split the two like the Red Sea. Like two teenagers caught on their parents' sofa, Brian and Peyton jumped apart.
Matt chuckled, scrunching up his nose from the sheer amusement, "Okay, guys. It's not super obvious what was going on in here."
"What do you want?" Brian grunted, resorting to his own bag of clothes to help hide his humiliation.
Matt was grinning; there was nothing in the world more satisfying than catching two people hopelessly enamored with one another trying to fight it. Matt reckoned Brian and Peyton might be more interested in starving their affections than feeding them. And that, he knew, meant trouble for Saint James. Brian never resisted temptation; he sought after it with a hunger. But with Peyton he was slow. He was patient. Matt was bewildered to watch Brian's attention to every detail of Peyton's existence. While it offered Matt a little piece of joy, it also caused him conflict.
He'd known Lexi and Wiley, both as a whole and as two separate beings. He knew what that bond was; he knew it was everlasting. He wasn't sure Brian knew what he was getting into, but he refused to be the messenger stepping in to deliver that message. Brian was a big boy, strong-willed and resilient; Matt took refuge in these traits, hoping to god that he didn't end up in shambles when it was all said and done.
But Peyton looked at the guitarist with such pure infatuation that the certainties Matt held fell into question. Maybe he'd pegged the whole thing wrong; maybe Lexi and Wiley had grown up. Maybe they'd grown out of one another. Brian seemed to fit her well, if not a little loose around the collar.
"Zach's on dinner duty," Matt said. "So, he told me to tell everyone to fuck off for the next two hours."
Brian choked, "Two hours? What the fuck is he making?"
Matt shrugged with his entire body, hands flailing for added effect, "Like I know."
"Whatever," Brian waved him off.
Matt took one extra second to study the pair, now at opposite ends of the room, before letting out one last laugh and taking his leave. Brian glanced nervously over his shoulder, preparing to face an embarrassed Peyton and whatever that entailed. To his surprise, though, she didn't seem to care at all.
"Can you help me?" she said coolly, spinning around to face him. "Ji--I tied the knot too tight and now I can't get it off."
Brian smiled, "Sure."
"But keep your distance, Haner," she warned playfully. "I'm not prepared for another stand-off at the moment."
He chuckled softly, closing the gap between them and quickly untying the knot he didn't know Jimmy had secured. Furthering his surprise, she slid the top over her head and dropped it to the floor. She held an arm firmly across her chest as she bent down to pick up the long-sleeve crumpled up at her feet. It took him a moment, but he eventually pulled his eyes back into their sockets and returned to his own business.
Suitably dressed and cooled off from the chemistry that had nearly boiled over, they set off toward the kitchen. Zach was not impressed to find them lingering against the island.
"Did you not get my message?" he asked impatiently.
Brian snickered, "Cool your shit, Vengeance. I'm making coffee and then we'll be out of your hair."
"You better be," Zach warned lowly, leaning into the fridge.
Brian mimicked his friend silently, exaggerating the movements and head nods to make Peyton laugh. She tried her best to muffle her amusement, hiding her lips behind her palm.
"Stop it," Zach grunted knowingly from inside the cold shelves.
Brian's face burst into the world's smuggest grin, setting out to work on the coffee brewing process he'd promised to grace Peyton with. The three made idle chit chat, mostly about the rain, while Brian waited patiently next to the coffee maker. As Zach rounded out a dreadfully dull tale about a time he and his father got stuck in the rain, the maker buzzed with its finale. Brian didn't even pretend to be listening as he dumped the liquid into two mugs and handed one off to Peyton.
"Always good talking to ya, Gates," Zach groaned with pursed lips.
Brian waved with one hand as he and Peyton headed for the door, "Any time, man."
On his way by the white sofa, he snatched the wool blanket hanging snugly off the back. Peyton held the door as the sweet guitarist slipped passed her. They made themselves comfortable atop the patio couch, grateful for the covered deck that granted them access to nature's most magnificent show. Brian spread the blanket out across Peyton's lap and then his own. Their gaze narrowed out passed the treetops, marveling at the clouds as they lit and darkened with raw energy.
"Why do you like storms so much?" Brian asked curiously.
Peyton smiled softly, "I'm not sure. I've always had a weird fascination with them."
"Thunderstorms are cool," he shrugged. "But not so cool that I'll risk my life to see them up close...Unlike some people."
Peyton snickered, "You didn't die or anything. You're being dramatic."
"It's a strange end to the day," Brian thought aloud. "I thought the sun would have stayed out forever. Weird how quickly shit changes."
She wasn't sure, but she suspected Brian was talking about more than the storm clouds.
"And yet," she challenged lightly, "sometimes things don't change at all."
"Sometimes," he echoed flatly.
An introspective silence fell over the pair as thunder crashed against the atmosphere, shattering the tranquility into pieces that fell against the lake like acid rain. Brian was mulling over his own intentions, his own dark desires. It took everything he had not to pull her into him and confess his seemingly undying attraction for her. But she maintained her distance, albeit it wasn't exactly far from him. Her eyes widened with another bolt of lightning.
For someone so jumpy, the thunder hardly seemed to spark any sort of reaction.
"Peyton," Brian thought aloud, "Can I ask you something wildly inappropriate?"
She scoffed a little, "Sure?"
"Why are you so jumpy?" he asked slowly. "Is it because..."
He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. He was sure he was overstepping a bound by bringing her nature up at all; he didn't think it wise to push the limit with guesses.
Her eyes fell a little, "Yeah, probably."
Brian wasn't expecting such an honestly docile answer. Her strength astounded him.
"I hate it," she confessed quietly.
His interest was at a high as his eyes fell over her, warmer than the wool blanket wrapping them up together.
"It's," she paused, trying her best to word it properly, "...out of my control. I don't like not being in control."
Brian couldn't help the frown that weighted against his lips.
"She took that from me," Peyton sighed, blinking just a little harder than usual. "I can't trust anyone not to hurt me. It's hard-wired in me...I really hate it."
"Everyone has something," Brian comforted loosely. "It's human to fear things, Peyton. It's reasonable."
She nodded slowly, "Maybe so. But...If I could change one thing, it would be that. No matter how hard I try...How hard I work to fix it...I can't."
He reached out for her hand, tangling her fingers into him. She looked up at him without a trace of terror.
"I don't know what that's about," she half-laughed.
He furrowed his brows, "My hand?"
"Your everything," she replied, exasperated. "You don't scare me at all."
Brian smiled smugly.
"And that's maybe the most terrifying thing," Peyton added sincerely.
His grip on her tightened, replacing every hard-hitting word he had stored up in his inventory. She leaned against his arm a little, settling in as her hair fell against his tattooed skin. She fixated her gaze on the lake as it filled with the trash from the sky. The droplets rippled across the surface that had been so still not long before. It was chaotic now.
"I'm afraid of public speaking," Brian blurted out.
Peyton laughed, her face perplexed, "What?"
"My fear," he explained with a hint of embarrassment. "I know I seem like I'm this extroverted smug asshole...But I'm seriously a hermit. Interviews make me nervous...Talking on stage makes me want to fucking puke. I'm terrified of it."
She adjusted herself to better look at him, "But you do it anyway."
"Yeah," he smiled down at her. "I'm hoping that one day I won't be afraid anymore."
Her armor weakened in the rain, "My biggest fear is that my mother will find me."
Brian was struck hard by her revelation. He wasn't sure what to say; how to react. He froze.
"Not that I'm afraid she can hurt me anymore," Peyton clarified, sensing Brian's tenseness. "Not physically, anyway. No..."
"Then what?" Brian pressed gently.
"Um," Peyton breathed, terrified of letting the truth slip out too freely. "I've never had to really talk to her. My dad did his best to keep me separated from her when he could...But now...Now I'm an adult. I'm not a child anymore. If ever she showed up at my doorstep, I'd have to acknowledge her. I'm afraid of how I would feel."
Brian slipped his hand from hers, instead sliding it around her back. Trusting every instinct coursing through him, he pulled her close to him. She slung an arm around his waist, letting it lay there comfortably as she sank into a security she hadn't expected to find in anyone but Wiley.
"It's okay to love her, you know," Brian stabbed at the dark.
Peyton scoffed, laughing just a little, "I don't...Which I think is part of the problem. Unfortunately, I have a soul..." she actually laughed this time, "Which means I feel like shit about hating the woman who created me."
"It's okay to hate her too," Brian assured the brunette snuggled against his chest. "She's not human, Peyton. Anyone capable of treating their own daughter like that...That's not a mother. That isn't a soul."
Peyton swallowed down her childhood, deciding to leave it where it lay: in the past.
"This is depressing," she joked. "New topic."
Brian smiled, content to let Peyton leave her moment of vulnerability with her dignity intact. He felt honored to have been let into her mind, even just for a moment. He liked to think that meant he was earning her trust.
"Was Jonas mad you bailed on your first day of work?" Brian smirked.
Peyton shook her head, "No way! Considering I have absolutely no clientele here, I could stroll in and out with the wind and he wouldn't give a fuck."
"Speaking of that," Brian caught expertly. "I've been thinking it's time to fill in this gap in my sleeve. It's empty and it's sad to look at."
Peyton tried her best to hide her satisfaction.
"Up to the challenge?" he grinned, his fingers tracing along her covered arm.
"Fuck yeah," she replied enthusiastically. "Assuming you're not sick of me by time you let me stab you."
He laughed sharply, "Stab me. Okay, Bundy."
She cackled, "Nice."
"I guess it is stabbing me..."
"It is," she affirmed. "It absolutely is."
He smiled softly, "But I don't think I could get sick of you."
"Sure, sure," she dismissed playfully. "They all say that."
Brian chuckled, "Yeah, maybe. But I'm not like everyone else."
Peyton refused to admit how insanely accurate that was. Brian wasn't like anyone she'd ever met; male or otherwise. He held himself in such a way that she couldn't help but weaken around him--in the best way. She'd surprised herself with a willingness to be open with him. Maybe it was because she knew he was already privy to the nasty imagery of her past, or maybe it was because she sensed an understanding inside of him. Either way, she was glad to find sanctuary within his attention. He didn't pry; he didn't pull. He let her open the gates and he let her lead the way. He understood her need for control and he didn't condemn her for it.
Selfishly, Peyton cosied herself up to him closer. She tightened her grip on him and was elated to feel his grip tighten too.
"So you know that solo I was working on?" Brian thought aloud. "When you came to the studio and accidentally became my girlfriend?"
Peyton laughed, "Without the explanation, I knew what you were talking about. What about it?"
"Well, I went along with your suggestion," he began explaining, diving deep into a tale of his musical exploration and his appreciation for her insights.
The two engaged in a long-winded conversation about music and their gifts and passions. They compared guitar picks to paintbrushes, melodies to acrylics. Nestled beneath the blackest clouds Peyton had ever seen, she felt somehow enlightened.
Even when Zach called them for dinner, they did not move. Nothing, including a gourmet feast, sounded more enthralling than the conversation they were wrapped in. Peyton laughed as Brian sorted through a tale of their first time travelling to Warped Tour.
"Like six people in a van," Brian cringed. "The smell...Oh, good god. The smell!"
Peyton was howling, hanging off each and every word Brian's articulate mind spewed out. Brian couldn't help but join her chorus, snickering at his own adventures cast under a fresh light.
The others seated themselves around the elongated table, serving themselves bits and tastings of Zach's creations. Jimmy was distracted, letting Natalie scoop potatoes onto his plate as his eyes fixated on the world just outside the window. Even under the dim outdoor light, there was no mistaking Peyton's happiness. Jimmy recognized it with ease; he used to be the one to inspire the feature within her. His role had seemingly been replaced.
"Is that enough?" Natalie smiled at him.
His gaze lingered for one more split second before moving to catch Natalie's, he nodded once, "That's enough."
Jimmy sighed as he realized that Peyton's role, too, had been replaced.

Notes

Breyton is so sweet I could die.

But Pellivan....Destiny?

Hmm

xx

Comments

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RamonaFoREVer RamonaFoREVer
6/18/19

@fyction
It is one of my favourite things. I melt every time!!

kiss my sas kiss my sas
6/11/19

@kiss my sas
I know! Isn’t it sweet?! Guh. Pellivan <3

fyction fyction
6/11/19

@fyction
BUT PELLIVAN IS TRUE LOVE!!!
I still get giddy when Peyton says 'I love you' to Jimmy... urgh! Such a long time coming!

kiss my sas kiss my sas
6/11/19

@kiss my sas
I mean.... Breyton could be revived... never say never ;)

fyction fyction
6/11/19