A/N: This is just something that came to my mind. Thank you to Charli Lee (Sue) my wonderful beta! And please review. It means the world to me.
"That she that makes me sin awards me pain"
She turns in bed again and again. Her eyes are closed and the sheets tangle themselves around her limbs. She makes a little noise as if she wants to say something but can't. She turns around again and again, breath quickening, breathless. All of a sudden her eyes open and her cry is muffled in her pillow. She takes a deep breath trying to control her racing heart just to discover she is cover in a thin layer of cold sweat. She sighs closing her eyes, "Him."
With just a pair of panties, a small camisete and bare feet she walks to the couch grabbing the cordless phone on her way. She looks at it as she bites her lip, considering the option.
This has been happening more and more often lately. Her waking up in the middle of night, she means. She can't exactly remember whet her dreams are, but they are always about him. When she opens her eyes, she can only limber lingering images, second-hand feelings and his unforgettable taste, but they are all too clouded. Sometimes, when she is brave enough, she admits to herself that she wishes the dreams would be stronger, letting her remember the whole thing when woken up. It's torture to remember his crooked smirk, but she misses those chocolate eyes. She thinks her mind is playing tricks on her, punishing her for something. And then again, when she feels bold enough to be honest with herself she concludes: it's punishment to herself for making the wrong choice.
The white cordless phone remains in her hand, and in quick movement she dials his number and waits. And then she realizes – she knew the number by heart. Maybe because of all those times she was in this exact position, but talked herself out of it. Thankfully, this time her unconscious mind worked faster than her logical side and pressed the numbers before she could have a second guess to what she was doing.
He answers on the second ring, and by his voice, it's obvious he answered just so the noise would stop. His voice is husky, full of sleep and his tone is harsh, "Hello?"
Nothing. Not a single word comes to her mind that she can say to him. He waits for a moment and then tries again, now angry.
"Who the fuck is it?"
His tone startles her and she jumps on the couch as if caught red-handed. She looks around the dark living room to make sure it's absolutely empty. She clears her throat nervously. Then, with a weak voice, "You said we are what we are.
She can hear his sigh on the other hand. It sounds defeated and it makes her feel guilty for bringing it out again into light. "Rory," he says her name in a whisper and she has tears in her eyes. "What do you want?" he asks, but she knows he's pleading and there is a silent 'out of me' at the end of the question.
"I- I-," she stumbles in her words, not knowing the answer.
He feels her uneasiness and questions, "Why did you call?"
For some reason that question hits her harder than she expected and she looks at the magazines on the coffee table in front of her trying to look for an answer.
"You said we are what we are," she repeats herself before continuing. "What does that mean?"
He is silent and for a moment she fears he has hung up on her but then she can hear his labored breath. "It means whatever you want it to mean," he tells her, trying to end this conversation as soon as he can. (Before he gets hurt again.)
But she is not nice enough to let it drop, wish him good night and a good life and let him move on. Instead she confesses what she has hidden even from herself, "I've been dreaming about you."
He sighs and groans and she wonders if maybe she crossed the line. Maybe he doesn't care. Maybe there is another girl lying naked just beside him while he listened to her telling him how she couldn't get him out of her head.
"Why are you telling me this?"
She ignores his question knowing that if she attempts to answer him she will never say the things she wants to. "I wake up in the middle of the night crying, tired, covered in sweat. I can't remember the dreams, just the lingering feeling they leave me with. Some nights, when I'm lucky, I remember a scene or two and it's just…" she trails off without exhaling. "Sometimes they are just memories, sad ones mostly, or bittersweet. Our picnic at the bridge or our ride at the Inn's dinner when you destroyed that snowman," she laughs quietly for an instant. But then she becomes sober and tells him very quietly, "Other times, I dream… I dream about what could have happened. I dream of you and me and restless nights spent awake. I dream of how you'd feel inside of me or how your body would feel against mine in the morning. How do you really taste and what spots that I still don't know would drive you crazy. I dream of… of feeling your hands on my bare thighs and your fingertips running lightly on my naked back. Even silly stuff, like wearing your old band tee that smells like you after sex and what would be our post-sex talk – if there would be any."
She stops, not knowing what else to say. She thinks she said more than she should already and his silence doesn't help her slightly paranoid mind.
"Why are you doing this to me?" he finally asks, like a good boy that is thrown to the lions for no reason at all.
She didn't want to hurt him. She never wants to hurt him, but it doesn't seem to matter cuz she always does. She just wanted an answer. Something to help her figure out her dreams. Maybe make them stop so that she could finally rest when she went to bed.
At her silence he pulls out the big guns, "Shouldn't you be with Logan. After all you're his girlfriend, aren't you?"
"Jess…" she starts but soon realizes what he is doing, and for the first time she doesn't want the easy way out. "This is not about Logan. This is about you and me."
"There is no 'you and me'. There is you and Logan, and then just me."
"Alone?" she asks, and even though he knows what she is hitting as he answers.
"Yes, alone," he says sadly.
She doesn't understand the smile that comes to her face on full force as well as the weight on her chest that feels like guilty, like cheating. But it's not that she feels like she's cheating Logan for dreaming of Jess, for talking at him right now telling him all these things or for the smile that covers her face just knowing there is no girl sleeping next to him at the moment. It feels like she has been cheating on Jess and for a long time now. Like everything that has happened in the last couple of years was wrong and that her relationship with Logan was a joke.
She looks in the direction of the room where she left a sleeping Logan to call Jess and it seems so wrong of her to be there, in his apartment. She doesn't belong there, with a stupid rich playboy who was probably the most irresponsible person she had ever met. She shakes her head, suddenly disappointed at herself.
"Jess… I don't know if I want a 'me and Logan' anymore."
"No!" he says sternly. "You have no fucking right to do this; to just say something like that to me in the middle of the night, when he must be sleeping five feet away from you, just to wake up in the next morning and realize that you regret what you said and take it back. You can't just do this, Rory! It's not fair!"
His tone cannot hide his feelings anymore and tears spills from her eyes as she noticed how much she really hurt him. "I don't-," she starts, but then thinks better of it. "I know I haven't been fair to you with what happened on Truncheon and all but I'm sorry. I just want one answer, Jess! Please, that's all I need!"
"One answer and this conversation is over?"
"If you want it to be."
He sighs, giving up, "What do you, Rory?"
"All I want to know is what 'It is what it is' means; that's all."
"It means exactly that. It is what it is. You. Me," he pauses. "It doesn't matter how much time passes I always go back to you. And sometimes you had feelings for me and I hurt you and left. And sometimes I am completely in love with you and it means shit to you. But still, I can't help how I feel. We always hurt each other, but I always come back for you." He chuckles bitterly, "They say you always hurt the one love, right?"
She doesn't answer. "I can't keep this going and ignore these dreams anymore, Jess. I haven't slept for months now; since last time I saw you. This isn't right. Since this thing with Logan started I've been feeling ashamed of myself. I never felt ashamed of myself while I was with you. I don't want to feel this way anymore."
He doesn't say a word but she know he hasn't hung up.
She closes her eyes and bites her lips preparing herself to what she has to say. "I know I screwed up things between us these last few times and I'm sorry. But I want to make things right. You know about my dreams, you know how I feel, you know me," she pauses trying to keep her voice steady. "Now I just want to know how you feel about this."
"It doesn't matter. I can't just drop everything in my life to go be with you. I won't do this again, Rory," he tells her even though the words pain him.
"You don't have to," she reassures him quickly.
"Then what?"
"Just tell me that I have a chance even if it's a really small one."
"Rory-"
"Just tell me it's not totally impossible for us to be together again and I'll make it happen."
She can hear him swallow on the other end but no word comes out of his mouth. The silence stretches making and it feels like eternity. She remembers someone once saying 'the deafening sound of silence' and only now she understands what it really means. And then-
"I've been dreaming of you, too," he tells her carefully.
Her heart races and her smile grows excited.
"I won't mess up this time," she promises.
"I'm not asking anything." And he means it. He's not asking her to drop everything and go to him, to break up with her boyfriend or to fix her wrongs. He's just being honest with her, just like she had been with him. He doesn't want her in his life again, if it's just to see her walk away another time.
She doesn't comment but takes it to heart. She decides to make it work this time. "I'll be there tomorrow. It'll take longer for it to be permanent, but I'll be there."
He smiles, finally allowing himself to have hope. "You should go to bed," he tells her.
She shakes her head. "I'll start packing. I don't want to be in that bed anymore." She smiles and bites her lip, blushing, "Go back to sleep, dream of me."