Promises Made Are Meant To Be Broken
AN: When I was new to GG, I had thought that Jenny and Eric were a couple. NOT! But in this story, it's all Jenny wants. Reviews are appreciated.
What was I doing here? In the rain, at eleven PM, in front of his apartment?
Begging, you imbecile. You're here to beg.
Sighing, I pushed my blonde, wet hair out of my face and finally revealed myself from my hiding place among the bushes. The young doorman gave me a strange look once he had seen me, but otherwise didn't say anything. He opened the door for me and, giving him a small smile, I walked into the lavish apartment building that the Van der Woodsen's lived in.
Walking down the expensive looking carpet in the hotel's lobby, I stepped into the elevator and waited for the familiar ding of the lift reaching the pent house. When it did reach the home, my breath caught in my throat and the space I was in started feeling incredibly small.
My strong façade-although it hadn't been much to begin with-fell and I was panicked.
Oh God, I thought, resting against the back of the elevator. What if everything goes wrong? What if he hates me after?
The overwhelming sense of anxiety felt impossible to deal with. I closed my eyes and silently prayed that the doors would close and take me back home.
They didn't.
"Come on, Jenny." I told myself quietly. "It's now or never." Gathering up my little amount of courage, I took a deep breath and stepped out of the elevator.
"Hello?" I called, walking into the heart of the Van der Woodsen home. There was no response, and I found myself unconsciously smiling. He would never have to know now. I could go back home in Brooklyn, call up Nelly and do something fun and wild that would distract me from those Godly charms of-
"Jenny?"
Damn it.
I turn around and plaster a fake smile on, facing the voice and bane (and complete and total love) of my existence.
"Hi, Eric!" I cry, moving to embrace him. He wraps his thin arms around me and I can't help but notice what he is wearing. It is unusually plain looking for a Van Der Woodsen: a pair of black, straight cut jeans and a white button-up polo. The outfit is meant for comfort and not fashion, which really surprises me because Upper East Siders live to be trendy.
"Nice clothes," I comment, looking up and down at Eric. His cheeks flush an adorable shade of red and he chuckles nervously, making my heart beat excel.
"I just wanted to see how they looked," He admits bashfully. "I was going for a normal look, you know?"
I nod, although I really can't wrap my head around his words. He lived on the Upper East Side, which meant you were either rich, sleeping with somebody that was or both.
"They look fabulous," I smile at him, trying to reassure his fears. He gave me a gracious million dollar smile and motions towards the couch, where he and I both sit.
"What did you want to talk about, Jenny?" He asks, giving me a small smile. I open my mouth to answer him, but no words would form.
I can't do this! I think pitifully.
My train of thought is lost as panic and absolute terror set in. I clench my hands into a tight fist, scratching the material of my expensive leather gloves. Eric notices my tension and puts a hand on my shoulder, scowling slightly.
"What's the matter?"
It's you, Eric. My Dear, sweet Eric.
"You look sick," He frets. "Should I get help?"
I shake my head and let a soft and bitter chuckle escape my lips. "Unless they have a cure for love-sickness, I won't need it."
Eric's eyebrows knit in confusion.
"Love-sickness? What does that have to do with anything?"
I take his soft hands and gave him a desperate look, frustrated at his ignorance. "Don't you see? I love you, Eric. I love you so much it's almost too much to bare."
His eyes widen in shock and his body becomes stiff. Fearing I had crossed the line-the one that would make or break us-I pull my hands away and keep them close to my body.
"Jenny…I-"
Oh no. I could sense it coming. The heartbreak. The familiar, devastating heartbreak.
"I don't know what to say." He finally finishes. Eric turns away from me, making sure that his eyes don't meet mine.
I feel tears begging to fall down my face, but I hold onto them for a little while longer-hold onto false hope
"Say 'I love you too'." The desperation in my voice is pathetic, but I don't care. I turn his face to mine and press my lips to his. The kiss is so pleasing and gentle and it's everything I've ever wanted except for one thing:
He doesn't kiss back.
He gently pulls away from me and shakes his head, making his most apologetic look. I feel my heat shattering but I so badly want to ignore it.
"Eric, please," I'm pleading now. I'm pleading and begging but I don't care. "Say it to me. Say you love me."
I reach for him again but he catches my arm and puts it back down. He wants to say something but I don't let him. I break down into loud, pitiable sobs, willing for the pain to go away.
It doesn't.
It hurts too much and I don't know what to do. I want to call for Eric but my voice is lost in the tears and the anguish.
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
Arms wrap around me and hold me close, but that makes me sob even more.
It's Eric and he's trying to make me feel better but we both know it won't work, because all I can think of is how badly I wish this was us everyday and how it won't ever be.
"I'm so sorry, Jenny." He whispers in my ear. He knows I can hear him because then he gives me a chaste kiss and walks away, leaving me in my sorrow.
And to think, all of this is happening because of one broken promise.