Disclaimer: I don't own any Gilmore Girls characters

AN: I'm trying something new so don't stone me yet. Let me know what you think though. I love the feedback. Thanks, lulu.

Confessionals: Tangled Perspective.

I stood by the window staring intently at the silver band encircling my left ring finger. I examined each diamond incrusted in the overly expensive metal and sighed. My gaze drifted out the window. The view was less than perfect but picturesque for the city. I saw his and my own reflection in the glass. The same blond hair, although, mine was more red, his more brown. The same blue eyes, his like the clear Florida ocean, mine, a tropical storm. I could never have an affair with anyone unless they had those traits, I thought sadly. Our children would all have the same characteristics there was no room for anything different. Blond hair and blue eyes what a sad existence. They surely be ostracized and forced to pursue almost unattainable goals.

I felt two arms encircling my waist and warm, soft kisses caressed the side of my neck. I slowly spun in those arms, looking up I came face to face with the man I loved or rather thought I loved. His head dipped to touch his lips to mine in a slow, sensuous kiss. I felt my mouth water as if on fire under his rough tongue, which darted in and out of my hot mouth.

I pulled back and watched him. My eyes follow his angular jaw line to his pungent chin. I took in his features. His nose slightly upturned with a small dent spreading across the bridge. His eyes so blue I almost expected to see through them. My gaze moved down his face landing on his pouty red lips that were curved in a playful smirk. My own lips involuntarily twitched into a smile of my own. When had I become a sap? I thought. Only saps fall in love. My smile quickly dissolved returning my face back to the stony emotionless expression it so often displayed. He frowned. I hated it when he did that. His bottom lip protruded just enough to make you want to suck on it and his wide, round, puppy eyes almost made me melt. I felt my knees turning to pudding as I diverted my eyes to the bone colored rug beneath our bare feet. A lone finger rested under my chin forcing me to look at him. My eyes remained downcast as he stooped to see them.

"Why do you always do that?" He asked. I wanted to scream. My breathing was shallow and my heart was in my knees. His fingers, long, slender, rough, masculine, fingers ran along my cheekbone while I contemplated my answer.

"It's ok to fall in love," he reminded me in a low voice. His breath tickled my ear causing me to giggle softly. His eyes smiled as he stepped away from me. Unconsciously, my hand reached out stopping him. My tiny fingers intertwined with his larger ones.

"I'm trying but its just so hard," I whispered more to myself than him. I was completely sure he has actually heard. But I knew he saw the lonely tear that trailed down my cheek when he gently wiped it away with his thumb.

I slowly crossed the room picking up my picking up my brush from the vanity and ran it through my golden hair as I stood at the mirror. He sat down on the bed behind me causing my pillow to fall to the floor and the comforter to wrinkle. I replaced the brush and sat beside him resting my head against his shoulder. I could be so vain, I thought maliciously. But you're different now, I told myself. I inhaled sharply and placed my hand in his. He looked at me with questioning eyes.

"I'm sorry," I murmured into his shoulder. I could feel his muscles relax under my touch. The same smile reappeared on my once stony features. He was the only boy who could make me smile. My whole life I had went from boy to boy, lover to lover with the same emotionless disposition. I was the fuck and run girl. Love 'em and leave 'em except there was no love involved. Girls like me don't fall in love. It just didn't happen or so I thought until I met him my senior year of high school.

He was new in town, recently sent to North Carolina from Connecticut to go to Military School on account of being a bad ass back home. That was clearly one of the first things that intrigued me. Of course, the thing I really noticed was his undeniable sex appeal. The first time I saw him in the middle of Starbucks I wanted to rip his clothes off and take him right there. I actually considered the option but quickly discarded that on account of the parental units close in tow, not that they even noticed I was with them. That only helped to bring him and me closer. Exchanging amusing stories of parental bashing helped to break the ice but the thing we bonded the most over was my car.

Although my parents were more than wealthy, I had insisted I get a job and pay for my own car. My car was my baby. A '76 Mustang and boy did it need a lot of work. When he offered to help I was quite resistant. Considering his background I figured him as the type who didn't even pump his own gas but once I lifted the hood he showed his skills. If it weren't for him I'd probably never gotten that car out of the garage.

We weren't always in love. In fact, when we first met he was still smitten over a girl back home. And I wasn't looking for love. We would spend hours out in the garage and he would go on and on about this amazing girl he left at home. She never had a clue. I would listen every time he would tell the story. We discussed all our past lovers. We were friends so it was okay. We both had definitely left our mark on the world. Whether it was at Martha's Vineyard or in Houston, Texas, it was there. I knew all about the game he played and the he knew all about the game I played. We both hated that game and despised the life we grew up in. It was only natural we made great friends. Friends like Fred and Barney only I desperately wanted to be Wilma. Inside, I was dying. You'd think he would have noticed. But no, never, until one day I finally just laid one on him.

We were studying for midterms, it was late, and the library was almost deserted. I wasn't really studying for Sociology like I was supposed to be. Instead, I was studying him. The way he would constantly rub the back of his neck or gnaw at the end of his eraser while he thought. When he looked up I'd go back to my work and finally after about an hour of being on the same paragraph he asked what was wrong and I just smashed my lips against his.

"That." I breathed heavily as I pulled back, "The fact that you are so freaking oblivious. It's sophomore year of college for both of us, 3 years after we became friends and I've had enough of this charade" I smirked at his shocked expression. He surprised me back when he pulled me back to him and kissed me. I believe I had waited my whole life for that kiss. It was like those kisses you only see in Disney Movies. Where the stars twinkle and the world stops but than the damn clock chimes midnight. In our case, it was my roommate Chloe. None the less we were together as we are now, almost ready to graduate. Me getting my degree in law, he in business. Our wedding set for next May.

Sometimes when I was alone and thinking to much I'd freak and wonder if I was truly his love or merely a trophy wife. Something to admire. Something to show friends as an achievement. My biggest fears were manifesting around the belief I would be disposed of for someone younger after I turned 42. Those fears always subsided when I'd wake up in the night and feel his arm protectively wrapped around my waist, his head nestled sweetly between my neck and shoulder. The angelic, content smile spread across his handsome features and I'd know he'd never leave unless I'd say so and even than he wasn't leaving without a fight. That doesn't mean he was perfect. I love him but there are always those idiosyncrasies that I just can't forget about. Like the fact he still smokes even though I beg him to quit or he sings incredibly off-key in the shower at the top of his lungs waking me up every morning. He steals the blankets and sleeps on my side of the bed. He can't cook and he turned my favorite sweater pink. But when I look at him all those things disappear, all sweaters are forgotten and it's just him and me and I'm happy. Happier than I've ever been. The phone ringing brought me out of my thoughts. Noticing he had gotten up already, I smiled after him before making myself useful and picking up my pillow before straightening the comforter.

Our apartment was far from what either of us had grown so accustomed to as children. It was small with no interior decorator marmalade orange walls and no 60 thousand dollar leather Ralph Lauren couches. Does Ralph Lauren even make furniture? I thought to myself as I picked up my copy of Pride and Prejudice I had left on the nightstand. Placing my glasses on I curled up in the recliner by the window. I found it at a flea market for 50 bucks. It added a certain quirkiness with its worn upholstery and ripped seams. The sun streaming in from the window was warm against my skin making me feel toasty and provided the perfect amount of light to enjoy my book. I opened the worn cover, from excessive use, to my bookmark and began to read.

I barely got through the first paragraph before he was beckoning me to pick up the phone. It was my mother who had suddenly taken interest in me after she and my father realized what kind of a family I was marrying into. I sighed getting up. I dropped my book in the vacant chair and picked up the extension in the kitchen. My mother wanted to know if I was planning on coming home at all during my spring recess from college. I lied saying I'd try even though I knew I wouldn't. I had made plans to stay in my new apartment with my fiancé and my 50-dollar recliner, but I couldn't tell her that. I quickly ended the conversation saying I had to meet Kimberly for lunch in 20 uptown. Finally, with a list of promises I knew I'd break, I slammed the receiver down before she could even say goodbye.

I let out a few choice cuss words and kicked the island that floated in the middle of the kitchen floor. I cussed a little more as I hopped out of the kitchen holding my throbbing toe. I was greeted with a hug in the hallway.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, "from now on we screen our phone calls," he chuckled and I didn't have to look up to know a smirk was forming on his lips.

"You better go get ready for your lunch with Kimberly," he added looking down at my outfit. I wore a pair of ripped jeans and his Princeton sweatshirt that came to my knees and covered my hands. I snuggled into the shirt inhaling. His cologne still lingered on the soft fibers. I smiled in contentment and stepped past him.

"I don't even know a Kimberly" I called over my shoulder plopping down in the recliner and continuing my book. My mind began to wonder again when I saw him leaning casually against the doorframe, running a hand through his unruly locks. The troubles I'll have if we ever have a son that resembles his father. A true Don Juan, I'm sure. I smiled at the thought. I imagined the same smirking disposition on a two-year old version of him getting numbers in the sandbox. I laughed lightly to myself getting an amused look from the man still leaning on the doorframe.

His smile was stretched across his entire face causing me to fall in love with him all over again. I found myself doing that a lot lately. My heart would suddenly speed up and I'd tingle everytime he'd even just look at me. I felt like a schoolgirl with crush on an unreachable boy except that boy not only had my heart I had his. I smiled at the thought. I got up and crossed the room forgetting the book fully.

"You know I hate you," I laughed placing a light kiss on his parted lips.

"You only hate me because you can't stop yourself from loving me," he smirked pointedly.

"Aren't we Mr. Over-confident," I purred nipping at his ear.

"No, I'm just right," he countered snaking his arms around my waist.

"Shut up," I whispered against his lips.

"I love you too," he chuckled when he pulled away. I smiled graciously and stood on my tiptoes to kiss his nose when the doorbell rang.

"Damnit," I muttered stumping toward the door. I looked through the peephole. Not able to recognize the girl standing outside fidgeting nervously I opened the door.

"May I help you?" I asked sweetly.

"Yes, Is this where Tristan DuGrey lives?" She asked hopefully.

"Mary, I mean, Rory Gilmore?" Tristan gasped from behind me.

The name echoed loudly through my ears as though I were suddenly hollow inside. I felt hollow. My jaw fell open. New fears surfaced in my brain. Here I stood looking at the girl who Tristan first loved. The girl that never knew what she held in her hands. The only girl who ever broke through his layers of lies and games without even trying. It took me years of trying to get that far. That was when I felt myself slipping from his grasp.

She looked prettier than the picture Tristan had showed me. She was surely prettier than I was. She was tall, slim and exotic looking while still maintaining that small town look. I was plain, short and offered nothing in comparison to her. She was the light that illuminated the room, while I was the flickering match in the corner ready to burn out. I cleared my throat and invited her in. We all sat in an awkward silence until Rory finally spoke.

"You're probably wondering why I'm here?" She smiled tucking a stray hair back behind her ear. I wanted to scream and kick her out but I stayed calm as I excused myself to the kitchen in order to make coffee.

I slammed the cabinet closed as I watched the pot slowly fill. My eyes drifted back to the living room where they sat on opposite sides of the room clearly uncomfortable. I grinned widely. I felt suddenly giddy. I skipped lightly around the kitchen collecting 3 mugs and pulling the creamer from the depths of the refrigerator. I could hear most of the conversation as their voice carried into the kitchen. I concluded Rory was having a big problem with someone named Dean and she needed somewhere to stay and this was the only place she knew he'd never find or think to look for.

My face fell slightly when I heard Tristan agreed allowing her to stay here as long as she liked. I didn't mean to be selfish but it was my spring break to be spent here with just my fiancé. I plastered on the fake grin that I had mastered as a child and brought out the coffee. Rory tensed at my grin. She could see through it. I was hoping she couldn't I guess Tristan was right after all, she did see through the act. An honest smile replaced the fake one at the thought. It was going to be hard to hate her.

~

Part Two coming soon. Find out what happens after Rory gets settled in. And who this mystery girl is. I don't know when it'll be up but reviews always help an author..haha..shameless self promotion(it's dirty job and well I like the dirt.)