Letters
Disclaimer: I don't own any of it. Not even the computer I wrote it on.
Summary: "Don't go." She says now, because she can never quite say it to his face. Lit.
Feedback: Reviews are fun. Like a barrel of monkeys. Why anyone would put monkeys in a barrel…I don't know, but it's supposedly a lot of fun.
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She stops just outside the door, her eyes tracing over the letters that are painted on the glass. She likes that they're there. They're pretty and black and...there. Always. Not like him. And sometimes she hates him for it. She told him that once. The one and only time he told her he was leaving.
She wrapped her arms tightly around her stomach as she stormed away from the diner. She didn't even make it past Doose's by the time he caught up with her. She cursed, wishing Luke had stalled him long enough for her to get home and lock the doors. And windows, because she wouldn't put it past him.
He turned her around with a hand on her arm and whispered an apology.
"No!" She immediately pulled away from him. "You don't get to try to fix this. If you're gonna leave, then leave, but don't think for a second that one 'I'm sorry' is going to fix anything."
He reached for her hand. "What about two?"
She shoved his arm away from her. "This isn't a goddamn joke! You do this every time. You come back, promising that it'll be different, and then you just up and leave every time it gets to be too much for you to handle!"
"I don't know what else to do."
"You stay! That's what you do! You don't pack up and hop on a bus every time things are hard. You work through it."
"I don't know how."
She shrugged sadly. "Then go."
He stepped forward and tried to pull her into his arms. "I love you."
She shoved him away and wiped at the tears on her face. "I hate you."
He nodded and took a step back. "Okay."
She stands outside the door and listens to the sounds that have become all too familiar since she met him. "Don't go." She says now, because she can never quite say it to his face. She tries to count the number of times he left on her fingers. She hates it that she can't.
She sees hiss form stop on the other side of the glass and she knows that he sees her. A tiny part of her hopes that he'll open the door, but they don't do that. The door always stays closed until she'd ready. Because he knows she likes the letters.
She traces them with her fingers three times before she pushes the door open. She doesn't knock. She never does.
"Hey." He looks up from the bag he's packing.
"Mom and Luke went home."
"Yea." He nods. "I heard the truck."
"Right." She sits on the edge of his bed. "Where are you going?"
"Um, the bus is going to Chicago, but I'll probably catch another one when I get there."
"So, you don't know, then."
"No. But I was gonna call Luke from Chicago and tell him where I was headed."
"Good. That's good."
He walks forward and laces their fingers together. "I love you, Rory."
She doesn't say it back. She never does. "I know."
He leans forward to kiss her and as she kisses him back, she wishes she could remember how to cry.
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The next morning she wakes up naked and alone. Her hand automatically reaches for his side of the bed, even though she knows it will be empty and cold. She raises her eyebrows as her fingers curl around something solid. She turns her head and sees that it's a sunflower. That's different. She sits up when she hears his muffled voice yell something downstairs. Then Luke yell back. That's not different.
They always fight before he leaves. She used to hate it, but now it's comforting. Because it means she's not the only one who comes out of this thing a little bit broken. And as much as she hates herself for it, she's glad Luke is just as hurt as she is.
She climbs out of bed and gets dressed, letting the fight downstairs turn into calming background noise. She's standing at the window when the door downstairs slams shut. She watches Luke storm out and head in the direction of their house. She can't see him very well, but she knows he's crying. He always leaves when he can't hold the tears back anymore. And she envies him for it.
She doesn't know what to do when the door opens behind her. Because that's not what's supposed to happen. He's supposed to stay downstairs while she watches Luke walk home. That's what they do. That's what they always do.
He slides his arms around her waist and rests his chin on her shoulder. "Hi."
She stays silent and keeps her eyes on Luke. Because she knows her part, even if he can't figure out his.
"Taxi's picking me up at Luke and Lorelai's in twenty minutes."
She nods. "We should go then."
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She looks over at him from where they're sitting on the front porch steps. "The taxi's late."
He smirks at her. "Eager to be rid of me?"
She looks down at her hands and plays along. "Always."
He stands up and she knows the taxi is there.
The driver comes over to pick up Jess's bags then walks back to the car.
"Why don't you ever say goodbye?" She asks, partly because she's always wanted to know and partly because she wants to keep him there for just a few more seconds.
He stares at her for a minute then smiles. "Because the first time I didn't say goodbye you came after me."
Why did you come here?
Well -
I mean, you ditched school and everything. That's so not you. Why'd you do it?
Because you didn't say goodbye.
She smiles back. "Maybe when you get to Chicago you could call me instead of Luke. If you want to."
He nods. "Maybe."
The driver slams the trunk shut causing them both to jump a little.
"I guess this is it."
"Yep."
He leans down to where she is still sitting on the porch and presses his lips against hers.
She pulls her knees up to her chest and rests her chin on them as she watches him walk away.
"I love you." She tells him for the first time. Not because she thinks it will make him stay, but because she just realized it and thinks he ought to know.
He stops where he is with his fingers around the door handle. "I love you too." He opens the door and slips into the car.
It takes exactly thirty-nine seconds for it to disappear from her view.
She smiles when the tears come. "William's Hardware. Office. Private."