A/N—Ok, so this is a redo of the original To No One, because I just read it over (after a few months of absence) and wanted to stab it. (: but I liked the idea so I wanted to get a chance to redo it, even though I'm still not happy with it. Haven't done literati in a while, so you'll have to be easy on me...lately, I've been obsessed with stories about the band McFly. Weird, isn't it? Haha.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing. 'Cept Milo. –smirks-

PS—R&R!

Title: To No One

Author: Evvy aka autumn brights [previously known as Diamond's rockinchic2104

Rating: T for language

Summary: She said the part that had been repeated in her head, over and over. The part that hurt the most, that she hated the most. The part she remembered so clearly. "We just weren't made to last." Takes place before Fran's funeral in Season Three. AU.

The warm metal doorknob stung her fingertips as she placed her hand on it for the third time. Jerking her arm back, she took a few fast-paced steps to make another quick escape, but soon stopped in her tracks.

Since when was Rory Gilmore such a mess?

Fuck. She stared at him through the diner windows, obliviously scrubbing down the tables. I can't do this.

She would do this, even if it killed her. And she knew it would.

She knew in her heart she'd never again find a love like this. But even they could now see that love simply wasn't enough.

Her heart ached so badly she just wanted to run for her life.

We can make it. I'll change. I can change; I can get used to this; I don't have to be so fucking sensitive to every mistake he makes. It won't hurt as much if I pretend.

But she knew she'd been rationalizing from the start.

She was already broken and he couldn't put the pieces back together anymore.

She stepped closer to the diner door. It seemed so much further away than 22.8 miles, yet she pushed on.

She couldn't put together the plan in mind anymore. Looking around, everything was a blur of clear blue skies and the green of towering trees.

'It's done. Over. I can't do this anymore. I can't (can't, won't) do this anymore. It hurts. It hurts too much.

I love you (I love you, I love you, I fucking love you), but this is impossible.

We just weren't made to last.'

Fine. Just do it.

She entered.

Jess looked up.

"Jess…" and she stopped there. What else was there to say?

"I love you," he said. Bluntly. Sending her mind for a tailspin. Leaving almost everything in her plan forgotten.

But this was Rory Gilmore, future Yale student and the next fucking Christine Amanpour, and she would be damned if she let a stupid boy make lose control of herself when she had prevailed against all other odds. She said the part that had been repeated in her head, over and over. The part that hurt the most, that she hated the most. The only part that was still clear in her mind.

"We just weren't made to last." But I still love you so fucking much.

Silence. And staring. Like some sort of child's contest. Who will blink first? Who will make the first sound?

It won't be me.

She was out the door, leaving the bell over it dancing merrily.

And she broke down. He'd be out of Luke's the next day, she knew, with all of his belongings and he'd never look back. He'd block her from his mind forever because it just hurt too much. She'd learn to do the same.

Too late had the realization hit her—she had made a mistake. "I love you," she whispered. Soft. Quiet. And to no one.

A/N—Short, I know, but besides that? I feel like I suck at angst, haha. R&R.