A/N: This is a short little story I had knocking about in my head for some time, but took a while to finally get written. It's inspired by the Kings of Leon song 'Knocked Up', which everyone should listen to if they haven't already (I recommend listening to it while reading this).
Disclaimer: Don't own.
They take off in the middle of the night. She climbs out of her bedroom window, still wearing her Chilton uniform and they run towards his still-running car. He got a new one especially for the occasion; it's a beat up coupe-de-ville. He's always wanted one, and he can't help but think how picturesque they will look. He is shaking when he starts to drive away from her house. The weather is sticky and hot, and he can't even distinguish if the sweat on his back is from the heat or just sheer adrenaline. She packs more books than clothes, throwing them into the trunk of his car with a shrug and telling him; nothing will fit me pretty soon anyway.
They drive along the deserted highway, the lights of his car making a pathway along the expanse of road in front of them. They are both quiet. He can see her out of the corner of his eye, one hand out of the window feeling the air against her; and the other on her stomach. He can already see the makings of a bump straining against her Chilton shirt, and all he can think of is like mother, like daughter.
He's probably supposed to feel guilty about ruining her chances at an ivy-league education. She was no doubt going to make something of herself. But he knows they can be something really special together. He's in love with her, never been surer of something in his life, and he thinks she knows it even though it's never been said.
He thinks she loves him too, because why else would she have left with him?
He feels a surge of power as he accelerates the car, empowered by the thought of leaving that godforsaken town he had come to loathe so much. He wishes he could see the looks on everyone's faces tomorrow, when they know what he's done. What they've done. They're taking on the town baby; and god-damn if he 'aint excited about it. He thinks they're gonna make pretty cool parents. He's definitely not gonna be like his own dad.
She is watching him now, a low burning emitting from her eyes and he thinks she's feeling just as empowered as he is. They are so alike; their main goal in life to not become their parents and make the same mistakes as them. And yet it is exactly what they are doing. It's an irony he'd rather not face at this moment in time, and as they drive farther and farther away from Stars Hollow, he imagines he's driving father and father away from that truth.
I hope it's a boy. She says suddenly, and he is so surprised he looks straight at her; and when he does he has to physically fight with himself to look at the road again. She is so beautiful, inside and out, and he can't believe she is really gonna have his kid and live with him in New York and be a real fucking bohemian, just like he has always wanted.
Don't want another Lorelai Jr? He asks; a typical sarcastic answer because he can't talk about feelings because he just can't. She doesn't mind though, she even laughs; and shakes her head with a small smile playing on her lips. He smiles too, because he hopes it's a boy as well.
She takes hold of his hand that's closest to her, and as their fingers lace together he feels something that he's never recognised; something that makes him feel completely secure with this girl in the seat next to him, and it takes him a moment to realise that it is contentment.