A/N: So, this is my second published FanFic ever, and it's my first attempt at angsty, dramatic situations... Let me know if you have any tips for improvement or constructive criticism! I would also appreciate it if you checked out my first FanFic, which was written, like, yeeaaars ago, called Lucky Ceiling Bumps. Anyway, this one takes places within Nag Hammadi, after Jess chases Rory through the street. Let me know what you think!

X

"Can we sit down?"

He was out of breath from chasing her through the town square, his face stung from the freezing Connecticut air, and there was an incredible aching in his chest that made it difficult for him to steady his voice. But he was doing his best to keep calm, especially after her painful rant, reminding him of how terribly he had treated her.

"No," she spat, stubborn and angry. "You wanted to talk, so talk. What do you have to say to me?

It took everything he had to fight that strong impulse he felt to walk away. It's what he was best at—He was a Mariano, after all. The urge to run, it was in his DNA. And the longing was especially eminent at this precise moment: his guard was down, and for the first time in a long time, he was vulnerable. She could hurt him—hell, she could kill him if she really wanted to.

Just like her, he had gone over the scenarios in his head a million times. But every time he saw her, he blanked. And he left. The coffee shop, the bookstore… But now, now he had at least mustered up the courage to go after her when she took off from him. He almost wishes he hadn't followed her, because now he was looking into those blue eyes and he became someone else. That hard shell that usually surrounded him—the one that made sure that nobody could ever hurt him—had disappeared. And the hurt, broken look in her eyes reflected the same feelings, deep within his chest. He wished he had something to be mad at her about, but they both know that he was solely responsible for the damage done.

So he stood there, looking at her, completely and utterly broken, their breath coming out in soft puffs of white in the cold, dark night. And he forgot all of the apologies, all of the plans he had made, all of the speeches he had written in his head… And he forgot about the strong, mysterious, tough-exteriored persona he hid behind, and—for just a moment—he was honest with her.

"I love you."

The look on her face was that of pure shock. He wasn't sure what reaction he expected, but her silence immediately brought the walls up around him. There was nothing left he could say, and he couldn't stand to hurt her anymore. So he gave into his original impulse, stepping away from her and heading back toward his car.

What he didn't expect was to hear his name from her lips, spoken in her soft, scared tone. He slowed to a stop, only a few feet from his car. His back still facing her, he heard her voice again. "Wait."

Slowly, he turned around, mentally preparing himself for more of the yelling and screaming he knew he deserved. To his surprise, her voice remained small, nervous—hurt.

"Is that it? You're just going to drop another bombshell in my life and then leave again?"

He sighed, wishing his breath didn't appear in a white cloud in front of him. Damn this town for making everything cliché.

"I don't know what else to say, Rory."

She very obviously did not like this answer, but she pushed her anger aside for the time being. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, blatantly uncomfortable. Why couldn't she just let him leave? Hands shaking, she proposed, "Do you think we could sit down now?"

He didn't respond, but wasn't going to wait for him to initiate any conversation. Instead, she took the first few steps toward the diner, hoping he would follow, but too scared to look back. He waited a few moments, keeping a distance from her as she led him to the door.

He knew the front door would be locked, but he allowed her to try anyway. When she realized this, she finally turned back to him. Wordlessly, he reached for the key, hiding on the ledge above the entryway. He unlocked the door, opening it for her as an unspoken display of chivalry.

Rory was obviously uncomfortable. She fidgeted with her hands, removing her gloves and placing them on the tabletop before flipping a chair off the table and placing it on the ground. Jess followed suit, sitting across from her rather than next to her.

"You know," she began, completely calm and conversational, "you have an odd way of showing it."

He hesitated. "What?"

"You just told me that you loved me, Jess. You sure have an odd way of showing it."

"Rory…"

"I mean, tormenting me when you first came here, disappearing after the car accident, showing up and tearing apart my first relationship…" Her voice started to quiver. "Allowing me to hope—just hope—that you would let me into that secret world of yours, and then completely shutting me out. And disappearing again, with no warning, just leaving me completely brokenhearted. And now—now, you show up again. I just—I just…" She took a shaky breath. "It's just an odd way of showing someone that you love them, is all."

He keeps his stoic façade throughout her speech, but her words reach him, deep within. It's hard to look at her, those radiant eyes now glossy with tears. "It was unintentional," he spoke lowly. "The hurting you."

Rory takes a deep inhalation of air, speaking now becoming physically difficult. "I know it was, Jess." She pauses, closing her eyes for a moment. "You have no idea how badly I wanted you to let me in."

He's glad she isn't looking at him, because he's sure he looks tragic. "You have no idea how badly I wanted to let you in."

"Then why didn't you?"

Her question stings, and it's hard for him to articulate an answer. He's not even completely sure of the reasons himself. Maybe because something was wrong with him—something deep within him, beyond his control. He was broken and beyond repair. "I don't know, Rory… It wasn't easy for me then. It's not easy now."

She nods, accepting this answer. "I know it's not easy. I just tried so hard. I gave you so much of myself—I put it all on the line, just hoping and praying that you would just trust me."

"I know." He still couldn't stand to face her, eyeing the ground intensely. "But I knew we were never going to make it."

She's mad now, and he's almost happy about it. He's better at shouting than speaking, and maybe they will actually get somewhere. "Why the hell are you so convinced that we wouldn't have made it? You didn't even give us a chance!" She stood up angrily, leaving Jess alone at the table.

"We're from different worlds, Rory. I was flunking out of high school, I had nowhere to go; you were the valedictorian heading off to Yale! You were going to realize how much of a fuck-up I was eventually!"

"God! You sound just like everybody else in this town! Why does everyone think they know me so well, when they obviously don't? I don't want play-it-safe Dean, and I don't want some fancy Ivy League boyfriend—I wanted you! I was in love with you, for Christ's sake, didn't you know that!?"

Her words seemed to echo around the empty diner until the room fell silent. When she spoke again, she was back to her soft, quiet voice.

"Well, didn't you?"

Jess ran his hand down the length of his face, unsure of how to feel about this whole encounter. "No," he mumbled quietly. "I didn't."

This brought Rory back to her seat. She ducked her head low, trying to get a good look at his face. He lifted his glance for a just a moment, just long enough for both them to take in the other's pained expression. Jess returned his gaze to the countertop.

"Where are you staying?" she asked.

Sighing, he answered her, "New York."

"Are you happy there?"

He shook his head, more out of frustration than in response. He let out an ironic laugh before he answered. "I haven't been happy in long time, Rory."

This hit her close to the heart. "Did I make you happy? I mean, when we were together? Even a little bit?"

"Rory…" he sighed. "When I was here…I felt suffocated. I felt ostracized. I felt miserable. The only thing that kept me here was you."

"You didn't answer my question."

Jess ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, Rory. You made me happy."

"If we were together now… Would you be happy again?"

This is a loaded question, and he knows it. He's not even sure of the answer. On one hand, he would still be a fuck-up, living in a trashy New York apartment, but he would have at least a slight hold on her. "Is that what you want?" he asked.

"I want you to be happy, Jess."

"No—do you want to be together?"

Frustrated, she clenched her fists. "Not if you're going to leave again."

He's silent for a moment, then asks, "Yes or no, Rory. Do you want to be with me?"

"Jess, I… It's not that easy. I mean, yes, I want to be with you. But—"

But he interrupts her. He leans toward her, almost questioningly, then closes the gap between their lips. Rory can't help but return the kiss, bringing her hands instinctively to his hair, tangling her fingers gently in his curls. It's cautious, it's hesitant, it's beautiful, and his hands are cold upon her cheeks, but she doesn't care. He pulls away first, without releasing his grip on her until she is sharing his seat with him.

"I can't follow you to New York," she says.

"I know."

"I can't ask you to stay."

"You don't have to."

She freezes. "What do you mean?"

"I can find a shitty apartment anywhere. New Haven, maybe. Or somewhere close. If you want me to."

She kisses him again, just because it feels oh so good. Resting her forehead on his, she whispers, "I'm scared."

He tightens his hold around her waist. "I'm scared, too."

"But this time is different?" Her voice is tiny again.

He nods, his nose caressing hers. "Yeah, this time is different."