This one-shot is dedicated to laughterandjynx, for making the beautiful story The Last Virgin Standing. I don't really know what to say here...ummm this is for the one-shot comp. but I mainly just wanted to write a one-shot for the story. The characters have so much...well...character that it's so tempting to play around with them, and laughterandjynx, if you could, I'd love to just get constructive critisism back on my writing. Hope you like it and I apologize for its excessive length.

Charlotte Summers took a deep breath before knocking on the familiar door standing in front of her. How many times had she'd barged into this house? How many times had she just waltzed on in without a care in the world? How many times did knocking on this wood feel even remotely necessary?

Mrs. Chandler opened the door in question and pulled Charlotte from her thoughts before they could bury her completely. The woman looked weathered and older than she used to. Exhausted. A strained smile appeared on her face as she practically sighed out in a tired voice "Oh, hello Charlotte."

A moment passed, strangled silence filling the air at the prospect of what was going to happen. With a quivering breath Mrs. Chandler opened the door and stepped aside. "Come on in, hun. I'll take you to his room."

Mrs. Chandler continued talking as she crept up the stairs, ever-so-slowly. Charlotte could still see the dents made by her own trampling feet, hurrying to tell Luke a new bout of gossip and he'd indulge her by spouting back equally sarcastic and mocking remarks. The scuff marks, which decorated the railing Luke was obsessed with sliding down during his 'rebellious' phase. These little reminders, of a life that was so good and honest and had so much potential for love, broke her heart.

Suddenly she cursed Mrs. Chandler for walking so slow- tortuously slow. It was like being dragged behind a horse and buggy down memory lane.

"He'd just started a load of laundry before the...before he went out that day. So most of the clothes are gone." Charlotte swallowed hard to retract whatever was building in her stomach. She'd thought she was strong enough to do this, but the silent scream that stayed lodged in her throat now told her otherwise.

"Don't." She interrupted the pained woman, the mother of now none, before her. "You don't have to talk...about it...don't talk. It makes it hurt so much more." It was at that time they arrived before his closed bedroom door. How many times had she disregarded the beauty this door held? How many times had she ignored the way she relied on hearing his muffled replies when she called to him through the wood?

"I hadn't managed to get much done, only clear out the closet" Mrs. Chandler continued as her shaky hands reached out and closed around the knob of the door handle. It rattled as she tried to regain composure. "Take what you want, but try to leave the rest. At le-east until the movers come. " Her breath hitched as she clasped a hand over her mouth. It was less of an instinct and more of a desperate last ditch effort to hold in her sobs. Charlotte knew because she'd practiced the maneuvre countless times.

"I'm sorry-" Mrs. Chandler choked out before toddling back down the stairs, her cries growing fainter until it was eerily silent in the hallway. This hallway had never been silent before. And now, it was just Charlotte and the door.

A deep breath and it was cracked open, the view of the floorboards widening until finally they expanded to show the full room. Like Mrs. Chandler had mentioned, everything seemed relatively untouched, the blankets on his bed the same from when she'd last seen them, the itchy pillow cases Luke called ever so insistently to complain about encased the same pillows where he and she had rested their heads so often. Even the floorboards, and the way they shone with the incoming sunlight glistened the same as before. But there was a stiffness, a lack of use and life that didn't stop at the thin coat of dust on every object. It festered in her heart as well. A reminder that though it looked as if Luke would race up the stairs any minute, he was gone.

And he was never coming back 

Pushing out a shaky breath and blinking rapidly to get rid of her tears she desperately looked around. There was so many things she'd always envied Luke of, his possessions being one of them. But to take one away from this room now, felt like robbery, betrayal. She knew at that moment whatever it was she took, she'd have had something to do with it. It'd hold memories.

Quietly, so as not to disturb the little dust mites coagulating on the floor, Charlotte picked up the box Mrs. Chandler had left her for safe keeping of Luke's things. Almost lost on where to start looking she decided on the dresser, when a glint of metal caught her eyes. 

She walked slowly over, very slowly, trying to soak up the image of this room, because soon it would be no more. In fact, every familiar room of this house was soon to be emptied. Mr. and Mrs. Chandler couldn't handle living with the memories that laid in every crevasse and corner, renewing the pain of loss every day. And so soon, she realized, this room would hold another person's furniture, maybe even be another young boy's room, who would make friends with the girl next door. The thought made her heart hurt as she fought the urge to throw up and she found herself pulling herself from her mind for the umpteenth time that day. 

On top of the dresser, a metal picture frame reflected a pair of smiling, no, beaming faces that brought a smile of her own to Charlotte's lips. It was Luke and her, they'd been ten, and she remembered it perfectly...

Mrs. Chandler, looking so pretty and beautiful young Charlotte couldn't even fathom the fact she was anciently old, like almost 38, stood gaping at the gasping little Charlotte.

"Mrs. Chandler,” she got out between deep breaths. “ Luke wasn't at school today, and I couldn't do work all day because I'd thought he died! Is he here?!" She exclaimed. Mrs. Chandler just smiled.

"Charlotte, he's just got the flu!"

"He's sick?!" Charlotte burst out. Mrs. Chandler just chuckled as she let Charlotte in, for Luke was her best friend and best friends were needed desperately in such trying times. Heaving in a couple breaths -she'd run all the way from school right when the bell rang- Charlotte dumped her backpack by the staircase and scrambled upstairs to Luke's bedroom. His door was open- when wasn't it- and he looked up with bright eyes as she walked in.

The television in front of him blew up with explosions and regained his attention, just a little bit too late. "Ohmygod, Char, you made me die!" he exclaimed before throwing the controller down and hopping up, a little too energetic for someone with the flu, if you'd asked Charlotte. He smiled brightly before thumping down on his race car covered bed sheets. Charlotte sat beside him, but not too close because she didn't want the flu, or worse yet, cooties!

"Guess what?!" Luke asked, excitedly turning towards her, eyes bright and...surprisingly adorable. He was always the cutest boy at school. It was annoying sometimes. 

"What?" she asked with enthusiasm. His excitement was contagious...and gossip was always fun.

"I don't actually have the flu." It was a whisper. Charlotte's eye widened and her jaw dropped, amazed. Luke didn't usually lie this big. Little ones, sure, but faking the flu was so much bigger than saying you ate your veggies when you didn't. "Yeah," he nodded vigorously. "I pretended to have the flu to get out of Mr. Mongumery's spelling test!"

"No way!"

"Yes way!" he yelled, almost offended that she didn't believe him. But, who could blame her. He just lied to his mom, after all. Charlotte giggled as he bounced once on his bed. "And mom believed me the WHOLE time!" he continued.

"Wow," Charlotte murmured before Mrs. Chandler opened the door to the bedroom. 

"Oh Luke!" even her voice was pretty "Are you feeling better?"

He nodded quickly, Charlotte and he had planned an expedition for today and they could not miss exploring Lackolberry Park for a faked flu. "Well that's amazing!" Mrs. Chandler clapped once and winked at Charlotte before turning her eyes back on Luke. "Then you wouldn't mind cleaning up the mess you made...you know how bad I am at cleaning up your sippy bottles."

Charlotte giggled and Luke groaned. "Mom..."he whined and fell back on the bed. "I don't use sippy bottles!" Mrs. Chandler laughed and winked again- she so knew he had lied that day. 

"Then we'll get some ice cream before going to the park, well, we'll get Charlotte ice cream. You know how cream can make you gassy sometimes."

"MOM!" Luke whined at her retreating back... 

Charlotte smiled to herself as a few loose tears trailed down her cheeks. Mrs. Chandler took the picture when she'd come back with two ice cream, not only one, saying they looked happier than ever before. Slipping the photo into the little cardboard box she realized how much she would miss his goddamned smile. Beside the picture frame was a thumbnail of Luke's spring picture, from this year. Charlotte slipped that one into her pocket and moved along, swallowing the pain that was building in her chest and closing the walls of her throat.

Across from the dresser was the desk, and Charlotte looked at his slightly dusty laptop in distaste. He loved that frickin laptop more than anything else. Instead she picked up a small, pink, pen instead, from the pencil holder in the corner. He hated the pen at first...

"Char..." Luke groaned. It was his 13th birthday party and Charlotte felt proud of herself for thinking of an ingenious plan to embarrass him and seem sweet all at the same time. So she could be both the best friend and the totally-crushing-on-you girl. Lately Luke had been obsessed with his masculinity and so she'd gotten him a bright, doll pink binder, pencil case and pencil/pen set as a joke. He unwrapped it and quickly looked around at the surrounding boy's faces, judging their reactions. He'd invited all boys except for her and to be honest, it made her feel special. 

"I know how much you wanted it when we saw it at Walmart the other day..." she added, just to top it off and not-so- internally laughed as Luke's face slipped into the stoic scowl she loved making. 

"Charlotte Summers, I swear to god..." he murmured.

"You shouldn't swear to god, I'm sure he doesn't appreciate it." She whispered and the people around her laughed. Luke's cheeks burned a bright, flawlessly cute red and Charlotte decided he'd had enough embarrassment for one day. She pulled out her next present, unwrapped for she used all of her wrapping paper on the Barbie Doll Binder, and handed it to him. Suddenly the last present was forgotten as all the boys gasped and swarmed Luke.

"No way did you get that for him, it's a fake"

"Doesn't come out until next March"

"So sick bro, Charlie you should come to my birthday party"

"Yo, we should test it out, see if it has any defects."

Charlotte smiled proudly as Luke looked up slowly and grinned at her before hugging her hard. "I got it pre-ordered." she whispered into his ear as the boys took the copy of THE LIVING DEATH OF MASOCHUSETTES into the living room to try it out. She'd planned the present for months, Luke desperately wanted the game, and it had paid off. When Luke finally pulled back he smirked.

"I kind of like the pen though..."

A laugh escaped her and rested in the silent air as she pulled herself from her reverie and dropped the pen in her cardboard box. She picked out a photo album next and flipped over the pages before placing it back on the shelf. Leafing through one of Luke's favourite-and only- books she added it to her box, thinking of the time she'd fallen asleep listening to him read to her. God, she was going to miss him.

So much.

Tucked on his bedside though, was a copy of 50 First Dates, and more tears leaked from her face as she put her box down and picked the casing up. She remembered the first time she forced him to watch.

"Hated it." he said as the credits rolled around. Charlotte sighed and stood up, pulling down her shirt as it had ridden up. She hoped that his lingering eyes were not just a trick of her mind. 

"C'mon Luke" she whined and turned back to him. "It wasn't that bad. I love that movie."

"Yah, and that's why you belong in an insane asylum." he threw a piece of popcorn at her. 

"I'm not the person who threw up on Kristi Landumn last year, just because she winked at them… " was her retort. Luke chocked on his popcorn and threw more of the burnt kernels her way. She'd made the popcorn this time...and it didn't really turn out too well...

"You promised we wouldn't talk of that!" he blubbered, with that cute flustered look on his face. "That's breaking the friend code Char!" 

Charlotte scoffed. "Yes, the”'friend code'', or in other words, something you made up to use against me and get you off the hook." She pressed the fast forward button on the DVD player until the CD returned to the menu. She'd have done it with a controller, but Luke lost it some days ago, after a  romp with his last girlfriend. Charlotte grumbled to herself as she pressed play and watched the title screen fade into the film, thinking only one thing.

Luke probably had more than 50 first dates...

"It's hard." the deep familiar voice pulled her from the memory. She'd come to love that voice. "I know how hard it is. But sometimes you just have to let go." Charlotte took a deep breath to steady her voice before she turned around.

He stood there silently, waiting for her to be able to speak the way he only would, his less than clean leather jacket hugging his arms as they folded over his chest. She felt almost guilty, when she noted how well his jeans fit his capable legs, and how handsome he looked that day, standing in Luke's room, but she pushed the guilt away. Her smile was sad and barely fit her lips. But he didn't smile back, because he knew that her heart would break if he did so. He just arced an eyebrow and used his eyes to portray his sympathy.

She'd gotten better at accepting it. She didn't feel so guilty  now. She didn't feel as if she were betraying her best friend and long-time first love.

"Tyler," she practically breathed out. "You came. You're here."

This time a barely there smile touched his lips. He chuckled, an infinitesimal, beautiful, exactly-what-she-needed chuckle. "When are you going to get it?" he said in a way that wasn't offensive, but more amused. Affectionate. "I'm always going to be here." He held out his arms and she moved into them without hesitation, happy that she no longer had to second guess his intentions behind every action. He loved her. And she…she loved him too. Maybe not with all her heart- a little piece was always going to belong to Luke, even to Alec, and Beckette, and Ian maybe- but he was hers and that was enough.

As they moved out of the doorway Charlotte caught sight of the box of little treasures still sitting where she laid it on Luke's bed. She patted his picture in her pocket and finished closing the door. 

Sometimes you just have to let go.

And so she did.