Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls
This is just a random Rory/Jess confrontation I found on my computer today. I wrote it a while ago but thought I'd post anyway. An imaginary meeting meant to be placed roughly around series 5ish. Some of the details are maybe a little off, but I guess you could call this AU so maybe it doesn't matter.
Feedback would be appreciated as this is way out of my comfort zone – humour is more my thing, but I am always willing to learn :)
Vacant Spaces Where You Once Were
"You have no right to be angry," she whispers evenly, trying to ignore the bile rising in her throat and the oddly disconcerting sensation that perhaps her eyes are leaking.
He doesn't see her vulnerability though. All he can bring himself to see is the great big wrecking ball he has placed over her head and
So he does what he does best, he shrugs it off and tries to act his ass off pretending that he doesn't care. Who knows? – If he acts it hard enough then it might work. He's spent
"Perhaps you're right." Against his will he hears himself speak. "Perhaps you're right Rory, but it doesn't mean I'm not angry."
His voice sounds hoarse, alien somehow.
He wishes he was alien. He wishes that this was bad, bad dream and he had never decided to swing by and pay his Uncle Luke a flying visit.
She doesn't reply, just stares, hypnotised, at her elegantly clad feet.
In the absence of further comment on her part he ploughs on. No point in stopping now - they passed the point of no return a long time ago, so what's the harm in continuing?
"How long did you wait after I left before Dean?"
It's one of those horrible sensations – like watching a car wreck… He knows he should swallow the question back down and let it die in his throat, but he can't. He has to know.
He watches, feeling strangely hollow, as her head snaps up, watery paths of jet black mascara weaving drunken paths across the apples of her cheeks.
"Which time after you left?" Now she looks strangely animated, and he sees a fire in her eyes that he never noticed before. All of a sudden she looks as hard as flint and he doesn't like it.
"Excuse me?"
"Well as I seem to remember: first were you fleeing back to The Big Apple…" She over pronounces the tourist name for his city, as if wanting to take any and every opportunity to piss him off.
"…Next, riding off into the sunset on a bus," she saunters closer to him, saunters and using her fingers to mark off every cursed point.
He gulps. This isn't his Rory and he hates it.
"Then there was you coming back to get your crap-heap of a car and ignoring me completely," she pauses for breath, and to collect herself. She hasn't got to the best part yet and she's dying to see his face...
Or is she dying not to see his face? She can never remember anymore.
"Last?" she chokes out. "Last and by no means least you accost me in my dorm room and try to force me to run away with you."
He shakes his head and whistles sharply, ignoring the fact that her words have cut him to the bone and she has found a way to side step neatly away from the original question.
"Your bad decisions are always going to be my fault, aren't they?" He's known this for a while but voices it anyway.
She sniffs, running a hand through her hair, now tangled wildly in the wind.
The streets of Star's Hollow suddenly seem bitterly cold as they face each other down, neither willing to give in.
She thinks about the empty vacant space where her heart used to be and wonders how she let it get this bad...