Muahaha. :D
Here's a little one-shot for you guys.
I might make it into a story, tell me if I should in a review, porfavor. :D
Marty's last name is never revealed soooooo... I came up with one. :D
If this DOES become a story, I expect the title to change. Just so you know.
Disclaimer: If I owned Gilmore Girls, I would've made sure there was a season eight. .-.
Marty Schultz, a graduate of Yale, wandered down the streets of Manhattan. Each step brought him closer to his destination, and also very possibly bringing him a step closer to death. Figuratively, that is.
It wasn't like him to be scared; sure, nervousness was one of his best known qualities, but fear? Rarely in his life has he ever been genuinely fearful of anything.
Currently?
Currently he was practically shaking.
Reaching the building he had been searching for all morning, he came to a stop infront of the red-brick building, his head tilted back to see the very top; twenty-one stories up. He counted his way down, up until he reached the row of windows on the fifteenth floor. He easily picked out which apartment was the one he sought out. Off to the left was a window with closed curtains, paint splattered abstractly but still artistic looking.
Inhaling deeply, Marty forced himself forward, his mind working slowly. Pick up right foot. Move foot forward. Set down right foot. Pick up left foot. And so on. Finally, he made it to the entrance, walking through the front door quickly, before he had the chance to change his mind. He decided to take the stairs, allowing him to think of words to speak before they actually had to be spoken.
After climbing the one hundred and eightieth step, Marty turned to the pale yellow door, hesitating as his thumb pushed the lever down, allowing the door to open. He turned to the left, slinking through the hall in search of room 1507.
Finally, he stopped, facing a wooden door, the golden numbers taunting him. He lifted his hand, rapping on the door, just like ripping a band-aid off. He heard two voices. One yelled something along the lines of 'hold on', and the other one screamed 'I got it!'
He knew the voices well. Incredibly well. More so the one that screamed that she was getting the door. He would see her face soon. He would be close to her, face to face, soon.
Standing frozen, Marty locked his eyes with the door knob, awaiting a twitch of movement; awaiting the door's opening. When it turned to the left, his head snapped up, ready to meet the warm, tender hazel-brown eyes he had grown to love so much.
"Yeah?" A girl with black hair styled just past her shoulder answered. She looked up into the man's eyes, her smile falling from her face. "Hey, Marty," Lucy nodded, leaning against the door frame.
"Lucy," he greeted. "Hey."
"Can I help you?" She questioned, avoiding eye contact with her former flame for longer than a few seconds. She was nervous. To say she wasn't over Marty completely was an understatement. Being with Marty always made her feel like the most amazing girl on earth. He was the sweetest guy she had ever met, sweeter than even her grandfather.
Marty cleared his throat, looking at his shoes for a quick second before looking back at the reason he was here. "Can we, uh, talk?"
Lucy couldn't help but smile at his nervous stammer, something that she had loved from the very beginning. She cleared her mind on the thoughts crowding in on how adorable he was and focused on the question he had just asked. She desperately wanted to say no; she didn't want to hear his explanation for why he broke her heart, why he lied. But the look in his eyes made her melt, and she nodded a simple 'yes'. "Let me grab my shoes," she sighed. She noticed a look on his face, wondering why they had to leave, rather than just talking in her apartment. "If Olivia sees you she will personally condemn you to Hell after ripping your head off of your body."
Marty's eyes widened just a fraction of an inch, but she still noticed. She noticed everything about him. It was a sixth sense or something. She called into Olivia that she would be back soon and slid on her slip-ons, grabbing her key off the table, and returning back to Marty, closing the door behind her.
The two climbed onto the elevator, riding it down to the first floor, and walking out the door, still silent.
Finally, after another two minutes of walking, Marty turned to Lucy, an apologetic look plastered to his face.
"Look, Lucy," he started, taking a deep breath, "just give me a minute to explain. I never meant to hurt you, really. Just—uh, Rory and I… we were best friends. I'd always had a thing for her, and, well… I guess I just didn't think. I did think that seeing her would make me like her again. For a while I wasn't sure. I almost thought I liked her, until I realized that I had you. I really had you, and I never wanted to lose you. I did, of course, but I want … I want a second chance, I think. If you'll give me one. I love you. I set myself up for this, I acted like I didn't know Rory, because I was scared if you found out I had once liked her her, you—uh, wouldn't want to be with me anymore."
Lucy smirked internally, amused by his lengthy speech. When she was sure he was finished, she placed her hand on his arm. "Look, I guess I over reacted, but you never should've lied. You had to have known I'd find out eventually. But I guess I could've, I don't know, used names. Rather than 'Art show girl' and 'Boyfriend'. I've actually been working on that. Because I lost you. And I mean, I lost Rory for a while, too, so, I don't know, but I talked to Rory and we're friends, again, and thank God, because she needs all the friends she can get, now; but really, I don't know why I didn't talk to you. I guess I just thought there was a meaning behind why you didn't tell me you knew her, and in a way I guess I was right, but… Aww, shoot, I'm losing my point… I can't remember. Can you?"
Marty laughed softly, looking into her eyes, trying to hold back the urge to press his lips to her own soft lips. "I don't know either, but you're answer to giving me a second chance would be nice," he smirked.
"Oh!" She shouted, nodding rapidly. "That was my point. I'm going to give you a second chance, but the next time you lie to me, whether it be about if you have a headache, or about winning the lottery, I'll kick your butt out of my life."
"Really?" Marty grinned, placing his hand on either side of her waist. With Lucy he wasn't really shy, nor was he one to stutter when with her.
Lucy smirked, shaking her head slightly before wrapping her arms around his neck, drawing him in for a sweet kiss. "You do know that I love you, right?" Marty asked, unsure when she pulled away.
"Of course!" She rolled her eyes, planting another kiss on his welcoming lips. "And I love you. Lucky you that I do, otherwise you'd be one humiliated man right now, pouring his heart out to me like that."
"I consider myself lucky," he relented, simply holding her in his arms in the middle of the streets of Manhattan.
I kind of like it... Not much, but I usually HATE everything I write.
So, yeah. You should review. :D
Lemme know if I should continue or not...
o: