Persuade Me

Flossie

Summary- Ever felt so venerable, so blind that if you could have anything, it would be for everything to be as it was before? Only you would make it work this time. Because it was your fault. Everything was your fault.

Disclaimer-I own everything besides the quote, and the characters. Please ask if you'd like to use any of this.

Author's note- I'm not too sure about this one- I really want lots of feedback- good or bad. Just remember that it's a prologue, it's supposed to be short, and confusing. If you've read anything I've written before you would know I'm very confusing anyway. Thank you.

"Hope is a state of mind, not of the world. Hope, in this deep and powerful sense, is not the same as joy that things are going well, or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously heading for success, but rather an ability to work for something because it is good."


-Vaclav Havel

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Oh shit. Shit.

"Lorelai? Your break was over half an hour ago."

She nodded mutely. She continues to stare at the screen in front of her.

Please. Please go away, just leave me alone.

"You don't look so good; you should take off a little."

"Lorelai? Look at me; you're as white as a sheet. Go home."

The lady walked towards the door.

For a few seconds she actually let herself thinks she'd have the afternoon to herself.

But again, knowing her, there'd be a catch if she were to be going home early.

She turned back, "Oh, and Lorelai? Finish up that article tonight."

Bingo.

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She sits on a park bench, looking out to the river. Its cold- but she doesn't wear a jumper over her blouse. She looks as if she were waiting for something- someone. Every now and she will look over her shoulder; let the wind carry her black hair wildly behind her, as if searching for a face she might recognise in the busy shuffle of people that walk by. But she never stays long.

She never waits longer than half an hour, when she will delicately pick up her skirt, and walk away.

Always in the opposite direction of everyone else.

Some of the workers will whistle, and call out vulgar names. She holds her head high, she walks on.

She concentrates on the sound of her heels on the pavement.

And with all this, she still has to remember not to cry.

Because crying is a sign of letting down your defences. And she sure as hell is tougher than that.

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"You promised me everything! You promised me you'd never let me get hurt, you promised me…"

"Bullshit Rory! Look at you; you're not in any real pain now- get over it, move on. You've got to face it- this doesn't work any more."

"What doesn't work? Me? Loving you? Because that'll never change Brett- I can't help it."

"Love has to go both ways for it to work."

 It took every bit of her strength not to take a grab at his shirt and try to pull him back, make him want to stay. 

She wanted to feel strong- she wanted to know she could get over this, like he said. She wanted to herself to feel something- anything but what she was really feeling. Because she never wanted to feel like this.

He walked out after that. It didn't affect him in the slightest when he heard her aching sobs from inside.

He walked out knowing everything he had done purposely.

He walked out knowing how he had affected her.

And he didn't care.

Not in the slightest.

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Prologue