Disclaimer: Don't own it.
A/N: So this has been lurking in the dark, dusty annals of my Mac for awhile - written in what can only be described as a fit of sorts. It came, it wrote, and then it was gone. The fangirl in me that never got her Rory/Jess ending ('cause let's be serious... everybody else was a joke. Logan? Ha!) clearly needed some closure.
Firsts and Seconds
She wondered how looking at him - after all these years - could still feel like a deep breath of fresh air, filling her lungs in that way that alway felt like it was too much, too harsh, too soon - but inevitably settled into that sharp feeling of fullness and rightness.
And she always heard "Tiny Dancer" playing in her head when she saw him. The feeling of a soft breeze in her hair, the special sort of sunshine that had always felt exclusive to Stars Hollow shining down on them, and his arm around hers, giving her that slow grin of his that always made her melt and shiver at the same time - it all came rushing back, feeling as real as if it had just happened, rather than almost a decade since.
Maybe it was because at seventeen, he had loved Almost Famous - which both exasperated and pleased her inordinately (because some parts were so sentimental, bordering on cheesy, and Jess, the most cynical person she had ever known, had still loved it). And in a pure way - the way he loved Kerouac - and it made her heart burst to know that he was capable of that - to let something in, just the way it was, and love it - without driving himself crazy picking it apart and analysing it and not allowing himself to be happy.
So she rearranged her face into a pleasant smile, as opposed to one that was too familiar, too intimate for the situation, and asked how Philadelphia was.
And when he smiled in that particular way of his and said that he was moving back to New York, that he could use a friend in the city and did she have any suggestions?, she couldn't help but grin back.
Because he'd always loved Almost Famous and she'd always loved that he did.
And the things you loved had a funny way of reappearing, long after you thought you'd lost them.