A/N All the good parts are done by my wonderful beta and all the sucky parts are by me. And if there's any mistakes, it's me too.
r e w i n d
Monday.
They are back together...again.
She wakes up in the middle of the night, the glow of the moon bathing her. Her chestnut colored hair cascades down her back and her blue eyes stare at him.
She doesn't know how she got involved with him. She's an entirely different breed of woman than his usual lot. For one thing, she can string together two senteces without the word 'like' coming up once.
He, with his pretty playboy looks, his easy grin, the laid-back outlook, and his jump first look later motto. He represented everything that she had steered clear of at Chilton.
They are polar opposites, different in any way you look at them, yet they always end up together.
Always. Or so he thought.
l i e s
Tuesday.
He has a drunken slur. Which, if you knew him well enough, was a norm on certain days.
They've just come back from one of her grandparent's society parties. It's funny, the one thing they have in common is the responsibility of upholding the family name. They fit in that world. Both of them are obligated to go to these inane functions and converse as if they cared deeply about finances or the stock market.
Mundane conversation.
His shirt is untucked and his tie is undone. He holds a champagne flute in his hand. The appearance of one Mitchum Huntzberger makes him lose control and drink till he won't remember the conversation between father and son in it's entiredy. The hang-over the next morning will be bearable considering the reason for reaching for the bottle.
'Cheers, Ace,' he grins at her in that idiotic, yet endearing fashion.
It's gone in a second. There's only so much Logan can run away from before he comes tumbling down to earth. She's always there when he falls. She's his guardian angel.
He pulls her closer to him, hugging her waist. She's his rock when things get rough both at home and at school. He can count on her to always be there to listen and comfort him. Why has he never appreciated that?
'I love you. I love you. I love you,' he chants in his drunken stupor.
She knows it's a lie. He's drunk and she's just another girl. She's another person he can fuck, to say it crudely. She's something he can hold on to when things get tough. She's dependable and he's not ready to commit.
But she'll believe it anyway. She will believe all the bullshit he puts forth because the alternative will break her heart. She's in too deep for her own good.
c a s u a l
Wednesday.
Everyone is prattling and rushing around the newspaper room while she stares at her computer. Looking anywhere else is a dangerous feat at the moment.
He stumbles in, lips attached to a blonde. It's not like he promised her anything. Love is just another word to him.
The girl smiles at him, their lands are laced. She wishes it doesn't hurt as much to see him like this. She wishes the floor would open up and swallow her whole.
He leans into the blonde, attacking her lips again. They make their way to his desk, kissing feverishly. She looks away. She's become too involved with Yale's local Casanova. She shouldn't be hurt by such a fickle creature.
She wonders if he whispers little white lies to the girl as well. But then again, she doesn't want to think about his other girls. So, she places a forced smile on her face and ignores the spectacle. If only it were that easy.
j e a l o u s y
Thursday.
He sees her but she isn't alone. He never thought about how she spends her time when he's not around. It wasn't like she wasn't doing exactly what he'd been doing during their 'arrangement,' but it's a shock to see her with someone other than himself.
He's with another girl, a brunette (just like her). He alternates between blondes, red heads, and brunettes. She wonders if he's got the girl's hair colors written down right next to their numbers in his little black book. She wouldn't put it past him to do something so degrading.
The brunette doesn't know why he's suddenly gone quiet, but he's a Huntzberger and she doesn't feel like questioning him. If she got her chance to become the next Mrs. Logan Huntzberger her time spent at Yale would be well worth it. Her mother always told her not to question powerful men since she was simply arm candy. Mother always did know best.
His eyes are glued to the scene that is not more than seven feet away from him. He finally got a glimpse at her companion and he doesn't like it one bit. He can't look away from the sight either.
He knows the guy she's with. Carter Hamilton. Friends in boarding school, equally rich, equally charming. He wonders how she ended up with him. Anyone else and Logan wouldn't have thought of as competition, but Carter was a different story. Everything Logan had, so did Carter.
She kisses Hamilton on the corner of his mouth. He, stupid fucking Hamilton, catches it and turns into a full-blown kiss. By the time they're done with their public display of affection, he's ready to kill. His hands are ready to punch that pretty boy's face and make it bleed. He's not sure where this possessivenes comes from, but he doesn't want look too deeply into it.
Hamilton presses a kiss to her forehead and wraps his arms around her. As they're walking away she catches his eye.
She sees him there, next to a pretty girl, looking absolutely murderous. She says nothing, but simply shakes her head.
He knows what that shake of the head meant. She looks pointedly at his brunette companion and turns to look up at Carter Hamilton with a smile on her face. That smile was usually directed at him, now another man was at the recieving end of it. He didn't like it one bit.
'It's casual...casual,' he has to remind himself over and over again.
l u s t
Friday.
He's rough with her. Jealousy, anger, and lust takes over him as he tugs and pulls her clothes off frantically. He gives bruising kisses all over her body, pulls her hair, and she begs him to stop. He doesn't.
He doesn't realize that he's marking her so if another happens to see her in such a state they will know she belongs to him. He's never left marks on a girl before. There is a first time for everything.
He's possessive and needy afterwards, curling his arm around her. He doesn't feel he's had enough of her and knows he'll wake wanting her. He wants her within reach for another reason entirely as well, which he doesn't want to think about. He knows that if she stays with him she won't somehow end up in Carter Hamilton's bed.
'I want you to stay with me,' he says with meaning in his voice.
It's more of a command than a request. She can only think of one reason for such a request and his behavior tonight. He didn't like seeing her with another man, but she knows he won't commit to her. They were at a stalemate.
She shakes her head.
'No, I can't,' she replies.
He doesn't know how much she wants to, but there is reason she refuses such an offer. She has to keep her heart guarded from him. He wouldn't understand and she won't waste her time trying to explain it to him.
She gathers up her clothes and leaves.
He's left alone in his room to ponder what just happened. He doesn't want to think about the reason she just left his warm and cozy bed or...for whom. He'd rather concentrate on the scent of her which she left behind on his pillow.
r e g r e t
Saturday.
She climbs out of his bed and he doesn't ask her to stay. She doesn't have the heart to tell him where she's going. She knows it's not a subject he would be comfortable in discussing.
So instead she kisses him softly on the lips and whispers a rushed goodbye. Her mind is on a different subject altogether that she doesn't notice the hurt look in his eyes.
He knows where she's going.
Out...Out with him. Carter fucking Hamilton.
He wraps his blankets around him. He's aware its suddenly gotten much colder.
g o n e
Sunday.
She makes a point to visit him. She doesn't want to be one of them anymore. One of his many escorts. She wants more for herself than to be someone's plaything who can be replaced at the drop of a hat. She's simply tired of how things are going along. One of them has to put a stop to it. She's going to be the bigger person and do that.
The words spill out of her mouth (she's done this before) and he nods his head. He knows when to make the appropriate noises since this is a well versed dance the two of them are partners in.
'I can't do it anymore,' she says quietly.
He lets her go because he thinks she'll be back. She's always comes back before, crying and cursing. Why would this time be any different?
'Goodbye, Logan,' were the last words he'd heard from her lips before she walked out of his life for the very last time.
What Logan didn't realize until several months into the future was that Rory was quite serious when she ended things that day. She had had enough of her 'arragement' with Logan, so she took a stand.
Carter Hamilton wasn't a stupid man. He knew a good thing when he had it. Rory Gilmore was one special lady and she was from a well-known upper-crust family whom his parent's were acquainted with. He knew about her 'arrangement' with his good friend Logan Huntzberger, but he also knew Logan was a commitment phobe. So, he promised Rory what Logan would never be able to give her: loyalty, trust, and a commited relationship. She grabbed at what he gave her and he knew he was one lucky bastard.
Logan didn't realize he had lost the best thing in his life until he read the special edition of the Hartford Herald on Christmas day. The headlines made his vision go blurry:
Carter Kane Hamilton II weds Lorelai Leigh Gilmore III.
A/N It won't let me double space so the format is all crammed together. Nooooooo.