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Trashed and Scattered

Chapter Fifty-One: Lua

Peyton awoke to the dull brilliance of daybreak. All semblances of a storm had long passed while she’d slept and the world outside the window was now reborn. Her green eyes floated from the tree branches beyond the glass pane to the beautiful man sleeping soundly beside her. His bare chest rose and fell gently, almost so subtly you’d swear he wasn’t breathing at all. Peyton smiled subtly to herself, running her fingertips along the script tattooed atop his pectoral. He stirred softly but did not wake.
She moved her gaze to the ceiling, staring lifelessly into the choices she’d made. Her encounter with Jimmy played on an insistent loop, designed to drive her mad with the shame. Her mind ran over the fury in his eyes as he declared some half-hearted attempt at love. She mulled over his hatred, letting the venom pool up and out from each wound he’d inflicted.
In all their years of youthful friendship, they’d suffered through fights. They’d endured hardships and disagreements. But never, not once, had either ever so much as muttered those three risky words. Hate was a difficult thing to pull back. You could fall out of love and, in time, the world would move on. But hate…Hate was everlasting. Once it echoed through the chambers of a heart, the damage was beyond repair.
Peyton buried her face beneath her inked arms, as if she could suffocate her thoughts if she just pressed hard enough. Things with Jimmy had certainly not been easy. But hate? Every time her mind tripped over the word, she was sure she’d collapse into a ball of tears. She could handle anyone else in the world hating her—just not Wiley.
“Peyton,” a voice whispered sternly.
At first, she thought she’d finally slipped into madness from all the added strain. But when the voice repeated itself, she burrowed out from her self-loathing grip. Her eyes drifted to the door, where Jimmy’s head was poked through the crack.
“Hi,” he offered weakly.
There was that pesky urge to fall into pit of tears again.
“Come for a walk,” he told her. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
He pulled the door closed quietly behind him, tip-toeing down the hall. It was strange for Peyton to be awake so earlier and even stranger for Jimmy to be so awake he was already walking and talking. She ran over the choices in her mind, a rather large part of her insisted she stay within the safety of Brian’s arms. But the curious, aching portion of her soul had her slipping out from the comforter.
She slipped on a pair of jeans and zipped up the closest hoodie, which happened to be Brian’s but she didn’t care it was a little too large. Stuffing her hands into the pockets, she sneaked out from the bedroom and made her way down the silent hall. True to his word, Jimmy was waiting in the kitchen. He had two black travel mugs ready to go, each full to the brim with coffee.
Peyton questioned him without words, tilting her head back subtly as her paced slowed to a stop. He held a skinny finger to his lips, snatching both cups from the island as he led her out the door and down the deck stairs. She walked alongside him in silence, each unsure how to bridge the divide they’d dug between them. Finally, Jimmy passed a coffee to Peyton’s tired soul. She let her fingers pass over his, doing her best not to let the energetic brush take her out in one fell swoop.
With coffee in hand and Jimmy’s arms slunk back by his sides, Peyton took a sip. The caffeine buzz was almost enough to jolt her spirits back into their rage.
They followed the trail passed the canoes that had housed a few hours of fun the day before. Their steps expertly dodged puddles of mud collected along the walkway during the freak thunderstorm. The trees were sprinkled with dew, the grass damp and chilled. Peyton tightened Brian’s sweater against her chest, wishing she’d thought ahead to bundle up more efficiently.
“I used to play this game,” Jimmy spoke quietly, breaking the silence all at once, his eyes set firmly ahead.
Peyton moved her glanced slowly in his direction, losing her nerve midway. She resigned to drink her gifted coffee in silence, letting Jimmy’s voice marinate her shattered bones.
“I used to look for you in strangers,” he continued, wincing a little at the memory. “I did it a lot when I was a kid...But then I kind of stopped. Probably because I never left Orange County...and I knew you were long gone from here. Anyway, we went on tour last year and every city we’d get to, I’d catch myself thinking you might be there. I figured you could be anywhere in the world, so why not where I was?”
Peyton’s heart began to snap, lingering along the threads that were fraying in a fury.
“I thought I found you once,” he told her, an almost smile forming along his plump lips. “This chick’s eyes were the fucking craziest green I’d ever seen. You know, since I’d seen yours. She was ahead of me in the beer line, and I just caught a glimpse of her. I literally chased this fucking chick down because I was so fucking sure it was you.”
Peyton frowned, knowing fully well that this chick he spoke of was absolutely not her. She’d remember some gothic gazelle pursuing her; she’d have placed his blue eyes immediately. But the last memory she had of those crystal blues was the night it rained; the night he’d kissed her goodbye. The night she left a piece of her behind in California, destined never to retrieve it ever again. It had faded into dust by time she’d crossed the state line.
“She was mortified,” Jimmy snickered at the memory. “When I was done apologizing like crazy... I realized something.”
He fell into a prolonged silence, which Peyton knew Wiley to use as a means of prompting participation. She reluctantly obliged him.
“What did you realize?” she asked softly, her confident voice betraying her in lieu of nervousness.
“If I ever found you, I wouldn’t know what the fuck to say to you,” he half-laughed.
Perhaps Jimmy found a sort of bittersweet hilarity out of the revelation but it pained Peyton beyond comprehension.
“So, after that,” Jimmy continued on, his eyes narrowing through their lenses at a nest perched high in a tree, “I started running through all these different scenarios. Sometimes I felt a bit like I was going insane...but I wanted to figure out how to fucking deal with you if I ever got the chance.”
Peyton didn’t have to ask if he’d ever figured it out.
She had never given hypothetical run-ins any thought. Peyton was always sure she’d never see Wiley again. She figured he was fated for the stars; between his musical talents and his serious intellect, there was no realm in Peyton’s imagination in which Wiley didn’t lead some sort of incredible life. She rested on the laurels of what was, seeking refuge in her memories whenever the going got tough. She’d imagine what Wiley might say and she’d manifest his chest from her pillow, hugging it ever tighter in her arms.
But she’d never anticipated ever having to work out an apology or suffering through the casualties of her apocalypse. Wiley, she thought, was best seated where she’d left him, in the past.
Jimmy’s steps stopped all at once. He turned to face her, letting his gaze settle firmly into the set of emeralds he’d searched so long for. To see them now was torture.
“I’ve run every scenario through,” he told her. “And not a single time did I ever tell you that I hate you.”
Peyton’s insides fell limp, “That’s because it wasn’t real.”
“Lex,” Jimmy breathed. “What the fuck are we doing?”
She wasn’t sure how to respond, so she dug her foot into the soil in preparation of her impromptu burial.
He frowned, “If you told me all those years ago that this is how shit would end up, never would I have fucking believed it.”
Peyton was at the mercy of her silence. Her mind was racing faster than her lips could dare to part. When she looked at Jimmy, all she could see in that moment was Wiley. The strain between the two men tore Peyton limb from limb.
“I didn’t mean to complicate your life,” she muttered lifelessly. “I didn’t mean to come back into your life at all.”
He caught that remark like a bullet between his teeth, “Yeah, I know.”
“What do you want from me? You want to run me out of town to make things easier? I’m already going. What you're doing is unnecessary.”
He shook his head, “You know that isn’t what I want.”
“I don’t know what you want,” she countered.
“I want you to be happy,” he sighed, finally breaking the war of minds and retreating his gaze back to the tree line. “And I’m not making that easy.”
She bit at her lip, “Nothing is ever easy.”
“But it should be,” he groaned. “We should be able to fall back into the friendship we used to have...Shouldn’t we?”
Peyton shrugged with her entire being, “I don’t know.”
“This is all wrong,” he mumbled lowly. “Everything I said to you last night...I was wrong.”
She braced her bravery up onto a flimsy ledge, “Everything?”
It wasn't entirely lost on Peyton's weery mind that Jimmy had all but declared them descendants of the stars. To hear him recount it now as a casualty of war made her sick with confusion. That was the one nagging thing about Jimmy that stemmed far from the boy she'd once known; he could never stick to his word. Every single sentiment was coated in some sort of charade. When she'd feel they were growing closer, Jimmy would do something to snap the olive branch. Sometimes it was as simple as Natalie pulling up to berate him, and others it was as complicated as extending a leaf of adoration and then quickly holding a match to its stem. Peyton was never sure which way he was coming from and which way he was headed for. She'd been holding on anyway, hoping he might drag her along for the ride.
It was a juvenile hope, she knew. All of the faults she'd offered up to their stars were truths she wore as badges of dishonor. But sometimes, in the privacy of isolation, Peyton would pick at the seams until they'd come loose.
Jimmy was always sure to come around and stitch them back into place without delay.
Peyton’s lips fell, “Jimmy…I need to ask you something.”
“Shoot,” he said, taking a step in an attempt to get them moving again.
He was relieved to find Peyton step in line with him once more, sipping at her coffee with less hesitation than a moment before.
“Do you really think we’re soulmates?” she dared. “Or were you just trying to sucker punch Brian?”
There was no doubt in Jimmy’s mind that Peyton was his destiny. Whether destiny works itself out into reality, though, was a whole other debacle. There was, as far as Jimmy was concerned, no other explanation for the immediate connection he’d felt that day he saw her standing in Zach’s kitchen. No other explanation for the way she’d consumed his every waking thought since the day he’d met her. She was the one and only girl on this planet that he could never rid from his system entirely.
And every time her emerald eyes would settle on him, he knew she felt it too. He could feel it deep into his bones, rattling up in a chorus of love and devotion. But then one of them would open their bitter mouths and the bones would break apart. They’d clash and they’d crack until there was nothing left but dust.
“If I had to gamble on soulmates existing or not, and if I had one or not,” he said, his lisp carving out an extra spot of fondness in Peyton’s already weak shell. "I'd put it all on you, Lexi."
Despite her best efforts, Peyton's salty tears rebelled from their prison. Her eyes began to mist as Jimmy softened.
"Please don't cry," he begged for mercy.
She forced a smile, pulling out all the stops to reign supreme over her emotions, "I'm sorry."
"I don't know if..." he trailed off quickly. "Never mind."
"If what?" she pressed, anxious to get him talking again so she could hastily regroup.
He sighed, "I don't know if we're supposed to be...together. You know," he moved his head from side to side, a sly grin spreading subtly across his face, "Together, together."
"You're twelve," Peyton accused him fondly, taking the cutesy mannerism as opportunity to get it together.
"I might be," he smiled. "Here is what I know... Would you like to hear what I know?"
She nodded.
"What I know is that I loved you once," he said. "And I know that you broke my fucking heart. I know that you're sorry...But also that I...don't care."
The harsh reality hit Peyton over the side of the head. The impact had her seeing deadened stars.
Jimmy’s blues shifted around the scenery behind the brunette, trying his best to focus on anything but her pain. He knew he’d crafted a serious ache within Peyton, under the moonlight everything had been so chaotic. He'd made peace with the things he'd said...The way he'd acted. Come morning, though, nothing is ever quite so simple.
To see her broken pieces in the daylight was unbearable. He was sure he’d been possessed by a demon the night before and it had seemingly retracted it's talons by daybreak.
Never in all his life could he have ever imagined being so purposefully cruel to Lexi. He hated that he’d done it. He hated to have caused her pain.
But most of all, he hated that it was true.
He was constantly caught in a power struggle between love for her and pure, unadulterated hatred. Sometimes Peyton’s existence was enough to have Jimmy’s hands balled into fists. The way she demanded attention effortlessly; the conflict she conjured up within him.
He resented her for leaving. He resented her for the half-hearted apologies she’d lazily thrown to his feet. Mostly, though, he resented her for the things she made him feel. It wasn’t her fault—but it didn’t help to relinquish the bitter bounds that constrained him.
"I have spent the last thirteen years imagining all sorts of crazy shit," he told her slowly, fighting back his own emotional outburst. "And now the moment I've been waiting for is here...And we're making a god damn mess of it."
Peyton maintained her stony silence.
"Seeing you has stirred up some shit I didn't know existed," he continued, disregarding her dwindling spirit. "And I'm trying to figure out how to get past it."
Peyton found footing in courage, finally working up the nerve to vocalize the one hard truth Jimmy had revealed, “Have you hated me all this time?”
“No,” he answered quickly, honestly. “I’ve missed you all this time.”
“Then what did I do?” she asked, her voice cracking from the pressure. "What did I do to make you hate me?"
He shrugged, “You came back, man…I seriously wasn’t expecting you to ever come back.”
“You hate me for not coming back…but you hate me for coming back?” Peyton asked incredulously. “You’re hurting my brain.”
To her surprise, Jimmy reached over and locked her fingers into his own, pulling them back into another standstill. She went to pull away but he tightened his grip, casting her a reassuring glance to ease her troubled instincts.
"I need you to understand something," he told her quietly, his icy gaze beating into her skull. "I've never been happier in my entire fucking life than I was to see you in Zach's kitchen."
The sentence felt somehow flawed. Peyton had a hard time digesting it.
"And I know I said we should be friends," he continued. "But obviously that hasn't worked."
She opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off, squeezing her hands firmly.
"I haven't let it work," he added. "I've been holding out this hope...I don't know what I was thinking. But whatever it is, it can't be."
Peyton frowned, "You're hurting my brain again."
"I think in order for me to get through whatever I'm going through," he spoke slowly, softly. "We need to be friends. Real friends. No more of these secret rendezvous and shit. No more secrets. No more pining. Just...Friends."
Peyton wasn't sure if she could do that. Like Jimmy, she'd been harboring a secret hope that he might come to his senses and abandon Natalie. She'd never ask him to; but she would have been elated to find he'd done it on his own.
But he'd made himself perfectly clear to her the night before. He'd taken all choice from her hands and she'd sought safety some place else.
"No more secrets?" Peyton croaked.
He shook his head, "Nope."
"Right," she breathed. "Then you should know...I, um..."
Jimmy's heart sunk. He knew what was coming but he couldn't bear to hear it straight from her. Watching her and Brian enjoy each other's company within the confines of innocence had flustered Jimmy enough; he didn't need the specifics of the inevitable. Another obstacle thrown in their way by his own hand. He'd pushed her. Not that Peyton was remotely spiteful or calculated. She hadn't gone to Brian to seek some sort of sick and sadistic vengeance on Jimmy. He'd pushed her away for the last time and she'd finally given into her senses.
Brian was good for her. Jimmy knew that. He hadn't particularly planned on sending her running into the arms of his best friend but he'd certainly been smart enough to work it out when he'd crept their bedroom door open.
"I figured," he finished for her.
“I feel like I should apologize,” Peyton muttered awkwardly. “But I won’t.”
Jimmy shook his head, “Nah, that’s weird.”
“I don’t want to fight,” she told him, like a warning as she let her gaze fall to the mud catching between her toes.
“Me neither.”
She cocked an eyebrow, suspiciously glancing upward, “Right.”
“I dragged you out here to apologize,” he explained with a sheepish grin. “Not stab you with my words again.”
She hated that she laughed, “Stab me with your words.”
“Didn’t I?” he pressed. “I was a bit…over the top.”
He let his hands flail dramatically as demonstration.
"You were," she nodded.
Jimmy sighed, letting silence fall over them for a few excruciating seconds, "It's okay...the Brian thing. I mean...I hate it. But..."
"But?" Peyton encouraged.
"I can't make you happy, Lexi," he shrugged. "I'd like to...But I fucking can't. Not now. Brian's a good fucking guy. Hell, he's my best friend. There's no one I'd trust more with your heart...Myself included."
"Jimmy," she tried but failed.
”For the record...I lied last night. I could never fucking regret the night we shared...It was easily one of the best nights of my entire fucking life...But...”
Peyton nearly died as she waited in the lull.
He tightened his fingers around her hands, his entire face tensing as he struggled through, "I need to let you go."
Peyton's heart thudded loudly between her eyes, pumping her blood faster than her veins could contain it. Her venomous gore splattered along the trail, coating the tree limbs in her aching.
“What the fuck does that mean?” she sputtered.
He scrunched his nose, pulling the coyote imagery from its shelf in Peyton’s mind. She was so disgruntled she couldn’t properly enjoy the visual.
"It means that I don't want to do this back and forth shit anymore," he breathed raggedly. "I want to be with Natalie and I want you...to do whatever you want to do. I'm not going to stand in your way."
"But we're soulmates," she repeated to him sarcastically.
He sighed, "Every time I think I have a handle on how I feel about you, something happens. I put on a fucking mask and then twelve hours later, it's just a fucking shit show. This whole thing is a shit show."
Peyton’s ears were ringing, her mind racing. She was doing her damnedest not to fall into a million pieces at Jimmy’s feet. The way he still commanded her affections was appalling. She was the one and only constant in her universe that she couldn’t create control over.
Maybe, she thought then, she was right all those years ago. Maybe Jimmy was something more than a memory; more than a connection she’d missed with both hands.
But now, she was sure, she’d never know.
Her mind floated back to a simpler time, when Wiley was hers and Lexi still existed. Lexi had someone to count on; someone to guide her through the darkness. But now Jimmy had shoved her, full force, into the abyss and she was stumbling around.
Despite the company, Peyton had never felt quite so lonely.
In the back of her mind, as if to comfort her in the worst way, Jimmy's thoughts had sprung up realization. Jimmy was always ruining her favourite songs.
When everything is lonely, I can be my own best friend.
“The mask I polish in the evening, by the morning looks like shit,” Peyton sang softly.
Jimmy eyed her strangely, “Are you…Are you singing?”
She half-laughed, desperate to lighten the mood any way she could.
She raised her voice a little, still entirely weakened from Jimmy's ambush, “I know you have a heavy heart, I can feel it when we kiss…”
His mind sauntered back with hers, joining her in a time when things were far more complicated, but their life together was simpler. Countless hours spent huddled together, whispering melodies into one another’s ears as reassurance that things would work out. In time, everything would work out.
As long as they were together, everything would be okay.
Her tune this time was immediately familiar. He quietly commended her aptness to peg the moment. A trait she'd always possessed and he was relieved, and mortified, to find she hadn't lost.
“So many men stronger than me have thrown their backs out trying to lift it,” Jimmy added to her quivering voice.
With their fingers still entangled, Jimmy bore his icy eyes into hers one final time. He begged her for understanding, finding particular relevance in the words to come. The burden staring back at him told Jimmy that she understood. She could hear him. She was listening.
It’s strange the way songs can fit specifically into the molds of your life; the good, the bad, and the terrible.
“But me, I’m not a gamble,” Jimmy murmured weakly, watching as Peyton’s eyes glistened. “You can count on me to split…"
Peyton's defence shattered, "Wiley..."
He shook his head, his grip tighter than ever, "The love I sell you in the evening, by the morning won’t exist.”
Peyton broke down, falling quickly into Jimmy’s long arms as he pulled her into his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair. He let her sniffle and sob in the safety of his affection. One last time, he’d let himself be her safety. He'd let himself weaken at the sound of her tears; he'd let himself love her and adore her and long for a time where he could have her.
But for now, this was as close as he'd allow himself to her. She deserved better than what he had to give; she deserved someone who could love her without qualm. Without a sliver of hate splintering out and infecting the bloodstream. He wasn't ready to give up the toxins.
"I'm sorry, Lexi," he whispered, memorizing the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips.
Any hope Peyton had carried died right there on that path. She knew he was trying to set her free, but it felt somehow like newly branded shackles. Her insides lay scattered along the dewy grass, muddying the green with the crimson. Jimmy held her together, lacing her bones back together to sit atop the void. She let herself lean into him, the way she'd always known to do. If this would be the last time he'd let himself entertain their destiny as one, Peyton was going to lean in with all her weight. There had been no time for tears and suicide when they'd first said goodbye. But they were bleeding out together, locked in an eternal battle for control. Over their lives, over themselves, and over each other.
Under the hollow morning of the blood-stained trees, after thirteen years apart, Peyton and Jimmy stood together, united in their mourning of the loss they’d never been able to formally bid farewell to.
Until now.

Notes

Swear to god this is a step in the right direction for Pellivan.

I know no one trusts me anymore after the whole Blair/Jimmy thing (I will literally never stop bringing it up, so don't yell at me for it)...But I swear it's true.

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