"I love you."
Luke's Diner, 2003.
They are facing each other in the dimly lit diner, surrounded by what is now an unbearable silence.
"Luke…"
"No, you don't."
"I don't?"
"You don't."
"Might I ask why, Mr. Know-it-all?" incredulousness seeping through her voice.
"Because you don't."
"Luke…"
"Because you are Lorelai Gilmore. You are not supposed to love me."
"And just what am I supposed to do? Enlighten me, please."
"You are supposed to torture me for the rest of my life by not loving me. You are supposed to come in here, with your ridiculously tight jeans, and smile at me, not because you love me or like me or anything remotely related to any feelings, but only because you want your caffeine fix and whatever heart attack-inducing food you can think of. You are supposed to date other men, and come in here when you break up or get dumped and expect me to comfort you, not caring if I am the one that need the comfort because you just can't seen to open your eyes and see me standing right in front of you. You are supposed to get married, have the kids you've always wanted, and the Volvo, and the white picket fence, and tease me about becoming the town loner and flaunting your whole package."
"You are not supposed to love me." He added, as if an afterthought.
She was silent. Stunned. In disbelief.
"Go home, Lorelai. You are not thinking clearly. Just go home." His voice is soft, and cold.
Taking a deep breath, she shakes her head, as if she's shaking away her disbelief.
"I cannot believe you are kicking me out minutes after I told you I love you."
"Because you don't," he is exasperated, "you are just tired. I am tired. Just go home."
"How do you know that? How can you be so sure that I don't? You are not me, you don't know how I feel, and even with all the coffee that I drink, I am still pretty confident in my brain to be able to differentiate between love and…not love."
"Maybe that's your problem, Lorelai. Maybe it's your heart that's shut down from all that caffeine, not your brain."
She is immediately in tears, "I am leaving."
"And you know what, Luke? That's too mean a thing, even for a guy who doesn't love me, to say."
Lorelai's front porch, 2 hours later.
"What do you want?"
He doesn't reply. Just clenches his fists.
"You've got to be kidding me. You kicked me out of the diner, and now you've got the nerve to come knocking on my door and stand there and not say anything…"
"I love you too."
"What?"
"I love you, Lorelai. And I am sorry, for being a jerk, for saying that you don't love me, for…"
She shuts him up with a kiss. Their first, with her hands on his cheeks.
Pulling back a moment later, she looks down to her porch, and is, for the second time this night, without words.
So he pulls her to him by the waist, and gives her their second kiss of the night, of their life.
And this time she grins through the kiss, making him pull back, just enough to see that her eyes has turned an indigo blue.
"Wow." She whispers.
He smiles.
"If one of us was a frog, that would have had some serious consequences."
"Lorelai."
"Hmm?"
"Shut up."
"'Kay."
So they kiss again, meeting each other in the middle this time.
Her arms around his neck, 2 minutes later.
"Do you wanna come in?"
"Yes. God yes."
She smiles, and pulls him into her house.
"So, this is the living room."
"I know, I think I've been here before."
"Right. You sure have. So…why don't you sit and I'll get you something to drink. What do you want?"
"I am fine."
"Oh, are you sure? 'Cause we've got stuff. Beer, soda, no orange juice though. How about water? We have water, not sparkling, tap. But it is good water, I mean, Rory and I have been drinking it for what, 6, 7 years now, and we are fine, we are healthy. We talk a little too much, which is freaky, but other than that, we are good, upstanding citizens and all that."
She breaths. Then, holding her two hands together, she begs, "Please let me get you something."
"I'll take a beer." He chuckles.
She breaks into a smile, "and that's why I love you."
fin.