Prologue:
Before you start reading this story there are some things you'll need to know. We took the worlds of Gilmore Girls and A Cinderella Story and we put them together. We did change Chad Michael Murray's name from Austin to Tristin so that it would run with the history on Gilmore Girls. And this is a collaboration story so it's written by two different people who are wildthing64 and troryaddict.
Anyway on with the story…
Fate Can't Deny : A fairy Tale Beginning
To be out on her own, was a newly found concept Sam now found herself able to explore.
As she perched herself on the windowsill of the dorm she would now call home for the next 4 years. Her eyes wandered across the terrace below. Summers end was near and the anticipation of schools beginning had set itself in stomachs of freshmen everywhere. For Sam this feeling was anything but unordinary. Her prior life in L.A had rid of all but the excitement. Princeton was her new beginning. Even so, a million thoughts, worries, and plans for the future bounced unkindly in her blonde head.
Tristin had an inability to fit his fifth over-sized box through the acquired doorframe. His failure became evident when his attempt at sidestepping resulted in a rather loud crash into the wall.
By now Sam's thoughts had pulled her into a trance. She willingly accepted the interruption. An escape, from her own thoughts. Leaving her place by the window Sam adjusted herself, so she could easily view her struggling boyfriend.
Giving one last push Tristin managed to get the box through the door. When his gaze shifted upwards his eyes landed almost mechanically on her.
Sam still couldn't believe how completely naked she felt every time he looked into her eyes. Anything and everything she wanted to keep hidden would be completely revealed to him with one look into his sky-blue eyes. She couldn't stand it, yet she felt lucky she never had to say anything; he knew. Sam shifted her gaze to the ground, her thoughts absorbing her once again.
"Hey! Hey! Don't give me that! I saw you checking out my package!" Tristin exclaimed, placing the box on the desk to his left before approaching her.
Sam found comfort in the fact that despite everything that changed lately, Tristin was the one thing that never had.
Rolling her eyes at his lame attempt to be funny, she turned her back to him and came face with a bulletin board.
Tristin playfully wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on the nape of her neck. But Sam remained silent; this worried him. Silence wasn't anything he wanted between them anymore.
"I SAID!" nearly yelling into her ear.
"I heard you the first time Sir FedEx!" Sam turned her head, leaving her hair to whip Tristin in the face. "But I didn't order anything that COMES in a package…"
She saw his mouth drop dramatically as soon as she uttered these words. Sam even managed to contain her laughter when he relayed his way in front of her. Standing directly in her path, she saw the blonde, blue-eyed boy that had chosen, over his nicely routed life in L.A, to be with her here at Princeton.
His look of surprise was priceless. Still she was able to not let even a trace of laughter pass through her lips. Though her mouth was mute, her sparkling brown eyes told him all he needed to know. Tristin could identify every emotion brought through her eyes. And in each, he found even more beauty then the next.
"Take it back!" Sam burst out, giggling under her breath. She let her eyes search his face intently, as if mentally photographing every aspect of his expression.
"Back! Take it BACK she says! Sorry Ms. But THIS PACKAGE is not returnable!" He reeled his way closer to her, his facial expression drooping. Sam knew IT was coming, she knew WHAT was coming. Tristin leaned his forehead against hers, pushing his bottom lip forward.
Their eyes met, Sam's narrowed at his endeavour at pity. She sent a silent warning through her glare.
"I won't cave this time! I've made my decision!"
"Fine!" He whined in return.
"Y'know…If you keep your face like that for too long, it'll stay that way! Did your mother teach you nothing?" She let out.
"Actually…" He began. "My mother left us when I was 5."
Sam's laughter faded with this comment. She knew what it was like to lose a parent. She'd lost both of hers.
"Tris…I'm so sorry." Sam rested her head on his chest just beneath his chin, while embracing him lovingly. In slight shock, he'd won her over so easily, he let out a moan of guilt. It had always been to his disadvantage that his heart; so dedicated to her could never lie.
"Yeah…" he sighed. "That was a lie…"
"Why you little!" Sam attacked him with all she could playfully jumping on him, causing him to spring backwards, onto the bed. Though smaller, Sam never lacked the element of surprise.
"Shorty, let's not get to rough!" He teased, before regaining control and pinning Sam beneath him. She giggled and squirmed in his grasp, Tristin stared down at her with a goofy smile.
"Out of breath?" He asked, leaning his face closer to hers.
"You wish," she whispered back, closing her eyes, her hands still pinned above her head.
"Hey you heard the one, with the guy walking into the dorm to find two monkeys?" A voice said from the doorway. Tristin let out a sigh, resting his head forward on Sam's shoulder. When Sam looked up, she got an upside down view, of a tall, dark and good looking man who's accent without a doubt was Australian.
"I'm not in the mood," Sam said while sitting up, and thereby forcing Tristin up too.
"Yeah well, neither were the monkeys."
Tristin let out a small laugh under his breath. The unknown college student edged into the room and set his bags on the bed where Sam and Tristin were last lying.
"I'm Sam." She offered her hand out to the stranger.
"Would it be wishful thinking, to hope you were Tristin Dugrey?" He pleaded, placing a kiss on her hand. Sam flashed her smile once, and he had been caught.
"Tristin." Tristin raised his hand to the stranger, as he stood just behind Sam.
"And I'm…exotic!" He said lengthening his accent.
"So is the Asian Bird Flu," Tristin shot back. The stranger's eyes shot up and switched from Tristin to Sam.
"Don't tell me he's your boyfriend…" He said motioning a handful of clothes toward Tristin.
"Well…"she started before intervening with a fake "ahem" and changing the subject.
"I'm crushed!" cried the stranger.
"What time is it?" Sam asked, indirectly.
"Crying time," he continued.
"Shoot!" Sam now focused her attention on Tristin "I've got that job interview for the paper."
Tristin nodded his head in response. He could tell by her body language, that something was bothering her. But he didn't care to drag it up in front of his newly found roommate.
"Okay," he whispered kissing her forehead.
"I'll call you," she said, her brown eyes shouting concern as she turned to walk out.
As she made her way down the hall, she solemnly regretted the fact she hadn't been able to see Tristin's reaction to the 'B' word. Was he what she'd hoped he'd be? But even more, was he willing to say it?
Tristin continued to stare at the empty doorframe in which Sam had passed through moments before. But once again, the Australian accent broke the silence.
"Finn," he said, although it took a few seconds before Tristin could decode it.
"Finn?" he repeated. "What are we naming, all of the parts of another one of your 'exotic' fish?"
"My name," he said, ignoring Tristin's last remark.
Tristin nodded and began opening his boxes and unloading the contents.
It was a beautiful Saturday morning at Yale. Everyone was welcoming the last weekend before the first week of classes. People were up and about, enjoying the last of the summer temperatures. And even with all the noise outside on the campus, Rory and Logan didn't stir. They were nestled together on Rory's couch in her dorm room. The night before they'd gotten into a rather heated debate about The Office, having it end with them watching it four times in a row to finally understand it…Only they hadn't made it all the way through, having had both fallen asleep somewhere around 2:30 in the morning.
Paris on the other hand had, fortunately, spent the night at Doyle's, keeping her good mood in tact. She had just left his dorm and was going to stop by and pick up her article before heading down to the paper. As she neared the dorm she fished around in her purse for her key.
"Ugh…Where is it?" she muttered. Finally, after threatening to dump all the contents on the floor, she found her key and opened the door. She shuffled through the door keeping her back turned towards the room. Only after she checked the note board did she turn around. There in front on her, lying on the couch were Rory and Logan, him parallel to the back of the couch, his left arm wrapped possessively around Rory's waist. Paris's good mood couldn't help but let a tiny, almost undistinguishable smile form on her lips. Not only was it barely there, but it vanished quickly when she noticed the blanket wrapped around the both of them. Narrowing her eyes she dropped her stuff on the floor by the door and marched over to the couch. "Rory?" she called, reaching out to poke her but at the last minute deciding not to, afraid of what she might have on underneath the blanket…or not have on. "Rory!"
Rory groaned in her sleep, she could feel herself waking up, and inside her mind she was heavily cursing whoever was responsible. Upon opening her eyes she was met the sight of a not very happy looking Paris standing above her. "Paris?" she questioned her voice groggy from sleep.
Paris leaned back and let her hand rest on her hip, gesturing around with her other one. "What is this? You know I really don't need to see this," she told Rory.
The brunette, who had let her eyelids droop down, quickly opened them back up as Paris rose her voice a few octaves higher. For the life of her she couldn't understand why Paris was so mad at her, all she was doing was sleeping on the couch. Then all of a sudden the reason made itself known to her…or better yet himself. Logan had unconsciously tightened his grip on Rory's waist, pulling her closer against him. Now at least partially awake Rory chanced a look behind her and just like she'd thought Logan was still sound asleep.
Paris on the other hand was getting frustrated by Rory's lack of response to her and so she walked back over to the door and picked up all her stuff. "And you get mad at me for talking about Doyle and I. At least he's never been naked on our couch before!" she muttered, raising her voice for the last part.
"Whatever happened to your good mood, Paris?" Rory asked, raking a hand through her dishevelled hair.
"Oh I still was in a good mood until I found you and him here, on our couch," she explained motioning at the scene in front of her. "It's really great having to witness the aftermath of your sexcapades," she told Rory sarcastically.
Rory rolled her eyes at her roommate and shot her arm out from under the cocoon of warmth to grab the pillow lying on the coffee table. She propped herself up onto her elbows and launched the pillow at Paris, before dropping back down.
"That was uncalled for!" Paris huffed, as she passed by the couch to get to her room, pausing to drop the pillow on Rory and pick up her hairbrush on the way.
"You better not start singing again!" Rory warned, turning to look at Logan who until now hadn't made any signs of human life. She smiled at how peaceful he looked when he slept. She could remember telling her mom that he was gorgeous, but when he slept he looked almost innocent.
Instantly Paris started singing the same song from the day before, more off key than last time. She carried on into her room, and put all her stuff on her bed before she walked back into the living to find Rory with the same pillow over her face.
"Paris! Please stop!" Rory begged, her voice muffled from the pillow.
Unbeknownst to Rory and Paris, Logan had been slowly coming back to consciousness and finally opened his eyes. He was met with the sight of Rory holding a pillow over her face. Had he ever been more responsive at this time in the morning, he probably would have found the scene amusing. Yet as he was about to lift his hand to pull at the pillow he finally registered Paris's voice. At first he tried to ignore it but he found it to be impossible.
"Paris for the love of God, please stop singing!" Rory whined, pulling the pillow down and throwing it over the couch in a feeble attempt to hit Paris.
Logan, who had just narrowly escaped being hit in the head by Rory's arm as she threw the pillow, uncurled his arm from around her waist and sat up on the couch. He seemed to startle the two girls who both jumped at his sudden movement. He craned his neck to glare at Paris. "Paris," he addressed her rather calmly, "if you don't stop singing I swear I will kill Doyle with that brush," he threatened.
Paris who had gotten over her shock, merely rolled her eyes before stalking back into her room and closing the door after her.
Rory giggled at Logan's threat, turning on her side to watch him. As he lay back down on the couch, Rory studied him. His blonde hair was a mess, his eyes were glazed over with sleep but he was wearing a lazy smirk like per usual.
"Morning Ace," Logan mumbled softly, pulling her closer to him.
Rory smiled and settled herself against him, his scent was something to be desired. Unable to identify it exactly she figured it must be some pricey cologne he'd bought somewhere off the coast of Europe. Sighing she pressed a silent kiss to his neck. "Morning."
"Have you ever woken up with Paris standing over you holding a knife in her hand?" Logan asked, combing a hand through her chocolate tresses.
Rory laughed. "Surprisingly no," she told him, kicking her legs out from underneath the blanket.
Logan lifted his head. "Hey! Where you going?" he asked, not letting her leave.
"Coffee," Rory told him as if it explained everything.
Sighing Logan unhooked his arm from around her and watched her slide out and pad across to the small coffee maker sitting on a table of to the side of the room. She quickly opened the lid, but found it empty. Scrunching her eyebrows together she opened the cupboard underneath.
"Paris!" Rory yelled, jeering Logan from the light sleep he'd fallen into.
Paris' door ripped open and she stood there, arms crossed over her stomach. "What?" she asked dryly.
"Did you use the last of the coffee?" Rory asked, surprisingly calm.
Paris was about to answer when she saw Logan sit up on the couch. He flashed her a smirk before turning to the T.V. "What's Hunztberger still doing here?" Paris asked, but made her way over to the couch, not even waiting for an answer. "You know I'd be a lot more welcoming if you'd go somewhere else…away from our couch."
"Huh, I didn't know you were welcoming at all," Logan exclaimed, making Paris huff.
Rory came to stand next to Paris. "Hey, might I remind you that all this furniture is courtesy of MY grandmother," she explained.
"Whatever," Paris muttered stalking back into her room. "I'm going to the paper," she told Rory when she emerged again, article in hand. "I'll be back later!"
"I'm not holding my breath," Rory told her before walking into her room. "Logan?" she called, from behind the closed door.
The blonde socialite walked leisurely over to the room, leaning against the doorframe. "You called, Ace?" he questioned when she opened the door.
"You might want to get changed," she told him, gesturing at his rumpled clothes that he'd fallen asleep in the night before. "You still have some here…there in my closet."
"Come on Ace…I was thinking we could retire this slumber party to your bedroom," he said, moving his eyebrows suggestively.
"Logan. Change. Now," Rory ordered.
"You getting all dominatrix on me Ace?" he asked, his trademark smirk falling into place. "Not that I'm complaining," he advised, making Rory glare at him before she disappeared into the bathroom.
"We're going out!" Rory ordered her voice once more muffled behind the door.
"…Where again?" Logan asked thinking he may have missed it the first time.
"I don't function in the morning without coffee!" she replied, before the sound of the tap running sent Logan into her room to obey orders.
When Rory opened the bathroom door she found Logan waiting patiently on the couch. And to her surprise his clothes were changed. "Good boy!" she called, a little too cheery for such a morning.
Logan grumbled in return. "I'm not a dog you know. And if you were implying that in anyway, your dead Ace." Rory said nothing until they were both out the door. This gave Logan the illusion that he'd won.
"Boyfriends make nice pets," she told him before walking in the direction of the caf.
Surprised she'd said anything Logan held his ground outside her dorm door. Rory failed to notice. "Maybe I should rethink this whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing," he joked.
Rory flashed him a smile, looking over her shoulder. Both knew he wouldn't dream of it. Logan jogged his way to catch up with Rory. Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, they walked side by side in blissful silence.
Authors Note: Like it? Love it? Loathe it? We need feed back! If you find that the writing is unbalanced at times, please excuse us! As it is written my 2 separate authors who's styles may collide! A-U!