Summary: Brooke. She doesn't bother to untangle the web she's weaved. It would take too long, break too many hearts and shatter too many fragile relationships. But this lie…this lie is a little too intense to just ignore; to let reside in her spider web. Oneshot.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just…no.

A/N: I can't decide if I like this piece or not. It's not my best work; I know that much. I haven't written in the OTH fandom in months, however, so cut me a little slack.

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The ceiling seems interesting enough. She rolls her eyes and closes them for a moment, brushing a hand across her face. If she strains her ears enough she can hear the quiet sound of Haley's breathing. It's a comfort, having someone else there with her.

It gives her something else to focus on, should she choose to.

But choosing to ignore the look in his eyes is not an option.

Because she'd told him; she had confessed that she wanted to be with him. She put the games aside, for once, and put the cat and mouse chase they were constantly participating in on the back burner.

The back of her throat ached when the words spilled off of her tongue.

His eyes had dimmed a little. She'd turned and walked away before he could see the tears that were quickly welling in her own.

Part of her wanted to decipher the mess of emotions in those pools of baby blue.

Most of her wanted to take it all back and return to her evasive answers and unanswerable questions. Back to the sex games and pretending she didn't care.

He's just supposed to know. She isn't supposed to have to reveal her heart to him. The risk of getting hurt is far too high; she can't handle the pressure of honesty. However, the events of a few hours ago were enough to create the tears that had fallen from her eyes as she got ready for bed. Seeing a red head in the backseat of his car; the backseat she had staked claim to only a year ago.

Hearing his words of almost-apology, telling her he was trying to do what she wanted.

He didn't know.

And that hurts; brings a whole new river to her eyes, patiently waiting to leak down her cheeks and stain her pillow.

She shakes her head and gently wipes her tears away, sitting up in her bed and running a hand through her hair.

Brooke Davis isn't supposed to fall in love.

She bites her lip and swings her legs over the side of the bed. The quiet padding of her feet fills her ears and she grabs a flashlight off a nearby table, flicking it on with a quick movement of her thumb.

When she focuses the soft circle of light on her most recent picture of the two of them she shivers and steps closer, running her fingers over the edges.

It's all a lie, she knows. She doesn't bother to untangle the web she's weaved. It would take too long, break too many hearts and shatter too many fragile relationships.

But this lie…this lie is a little too intense to just ignore; to let reside in her spider web.

The lie she tells herself every night as she falls asleep.

The lie she feeds to anyone who asks her about it.

The lie she tells him day after day.

I don't care.

Her tongue unconsciously swipes over her lips in an attempt to push away the dry feeling in her mouth.

She does care. That's evident in the way she fingers the corner of that picture every single night when it's pitch black in the apartment and she's tossing and turning and trying unsuccessfully to fall into unconscious bliss. In the way she watches him from across the hall and winces when he talks to another girl.

In the way she snapped at him tonight.

She winces and tugs her hand back as though she's been burned. The flashlight drops from her hand and a hollow bang resonates in her ears.

Her roommate stirs and she bites her lip: hard.

Silence descends across the room and for a moment she's frozen. Then, softly, slowly, a gentle sort of stirring begins in her stomach. She blinks; waits; runs her fingers across the skin of her stomach.

She realizes with a start that she's nervous. Her fingers shake; rattle a little as she tucks her hair behind her ear.

She walks back to her bed and climbs under the covers, shutting her eyes in an attempt to forget this new and somehow irritating sensation.

Brooke Davis isn't supposed to fall in love.

And when they ask, she'll smile and shake her head.

It's just another addition to the spider web.

And really, what harm can a tiny little lie do?