A.N.: My first attempt at a Lorelai/Chris
fic. Any kind of thoughts on this would be nice. :)
Spoilers: This is a post-"I
Can't Get Started" fic so there will be
reference to events in S2.
Written for
Gilmore Girls Improv
at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/gilmoregirlsimprov
Improv: sudden
--- casual --- honour --- olive --- observe --- learn
* * * * *
All That You Can't Leave Behind
by inmyeyes
"It's hard to tell your mind to stop loving someone, when your heart still
does."
Tug of war.
He was being pulled in two directions; he wasn't sure which side was stronger and whose victory he was rooting for. All he knew was that someone would be hurt. Badly.
Sighing, he turned the volume dial on his car stereo. The loud strains of U2 filled the car and he felt some of the tension ebb away. He leaned his head against the headrest and wondered what he was going to do.
He was deep in contemplation when he heard the sound of someone rapping on the window. Turning his head, he glanced out his window and saw her standing there with her hands on her hips and an expression that was half anger, half confusion.
He let out another sigh as he felt the tension rise again. He was debating just driving away, but she knocked on the window again, this time harder. Deciding that avoidance was not possible, he took a deep breath, killed the engine and got out of his Volvo.
The sudden silence unnerved him even more.
"Hi," he said, smiling weakly. His gaze lowered to the ground and he stuffed his hands in his pockets to stop from reaching out to her.
"What are you doing?" she barked.
He shrugged. "I was parked in your driveway, listening to one of the greatest bands in the world."
She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. But her tone of voice belied the hurt she was feeling. "What are you doing here, Chris?" she said softly.
He smiled into her eyes for a second before he tore his eyes away, unable to withstand seeing how much he had hurt her. "I don't know, Lorelai."
"Don't give me that kind of answer!"
"I just wanted to see you, Lore."
She mimicked his casual tone but it was laced with sarcasm. "You wanted to see me?"
He sighed for what seemed like the forty-seventh time. "Yes." He hung his head like a chastised little boy. "I wanted to see how you were doing."
She shook her head and wrapped her arms tighter around herself, trying to ignore the apologetic look he was sending her. "Don't do me any favours."
His laugh was self-deprecating. "No, I was doing myself a favour."
Neither of them said anything, making the night silence even more pronounced. He wished that he had left the engine idle so that at least the sounds of U2 could calm him. He dared a glance at her. Her stance was still unyielding; her back was ramrod straight, her arms were still across her chest and her chin was tilted in a gesture of defiance. But he knew her, and knew how to read her and when he observed her more closely, he saw that the expression in her eyes had softened and that her lips weren't drawn in that tight line anymore.
Still, he kept silent although he wanted so much to say something, to say anything. He wanted her to make the first move and he knew that it would take her some time before she'd capitulate. She was a stubborn woman, and he tried not to smile as he remembered the countless arguments they had when she was acting like so, but it was one of the things that he loved about her.
His patience finally paid off after a few more silent moments. "Well," she started, sounding hesitant, "since you're here, you might as well come in and have some coffee before you crawl back to whatever hole you came from."
He failed to hide his smile, but it didn't matter because she strode away without waiting for any response from him. Chuckling, he walked after her, his mind working hard to find the words that he wanted to say.
* * * * *
Since she was sitting across from him, she took the chance to surreptitiously look at him over the rim of her coffee mug. As the sweet, warm liquid slid down her throat, she registered the dark circles under his eyes, the worry lines around his mouth and his hunched posture.
He didn't look anything like her Chris- the Chris whom she had been attracted to when she was fifteen and still was, the Chris she had fallen in love with and, she feared, would always love. She frowned at the thought but at the next instant, he looked up. Their eyes met and after a few terse moments, he smiled. And he was her Christopher again.
She buried the instinctive urge to smile back; instead, she raised the mug to her lips again, seeking the caffeine she knew she would need for the conversation that they were inevitably going to suffer through.
She had taken the initiative earlier to invite him in, knowing that she was offering him an olive branch. Uncertainty had been the emotion that had been on the forefront; uncertainty over what he was doing at her house in the middle of the night, uncertainty over what he had to say to her, uncertainty over what she wanted him to say…
All that she knew for sure was that a part of her had missed him – even more so than usual- and that she was glad to see him.
God, she had been a mess when he told her that Sherry was pregnant. Things between them were finally heading in the right direction, and God knows how long she had waited for that and how much she had hoped for it, but just as quickly, the rug was pulled from under her.
She didn't know what hurt her most: the fact that their chance at making each other happy was foiled, or the fact that he would be with Sherry during her pregnancy, a luxury that she didn't have some 17 years ago. Either way, it hurt.
The sound of him clearing his throat pulled her from her thoughts. She looked up and saw the expectant way he was looking at her. She wasn't looking forward to this, not at all. She knew him, and by the look in his eyes, she wouldn't like what he'd have to say.
"Lorelai…" He closed his eyes for a second; trying to articulate what he was feeling but he couldn't find the words. His eyes opened slowly and as their eyes locked, he gave a morose smile. "I still don't know what to say."
She shook her head, feeling the sting in her eyes that told her that tears were threatening to escape. Damn contacts.
"I don't know what I want to hear," she finally said, her voice soft.
Sighing, he wearily ran a hand through his hair. "I talked to Sherry," he offered.
She tried to hide her flinch but knew she wasn't successful when he reached for her hand. She felt his warm fingers close over hers; she let the contact linger for a few seconds before gently pulling away.
"Oh?" she answered, striving to sound impassive. "How did that go?"
"We ended up yelling at each other."
She didn't realize that she had curled her fists into tight balls until she felt the prick of her nails against her skin. As she let out a deep breath, she unfurled her hands and rested them on her lap. She didn't say anything.
"I don't know what to do, Lore," was his defeated whisper.
She couldn't turn away from him, not when the pain he was feeling was so evident. As she took his hand in hers, she said, "You do what you should do, Chris." She squeezed his hand gently as she went on, "I know it's a matter of honour; I know that you feel like you should be with her after… what happened with us in the past."
Her words made him look up and it was his turn to offer some comfort. His fingers tightened imperceptibly over hers.
She knew that her smile was shaky. "There's nothing wrong with that, Chris." Her smile dropped off completely with her next words. "I can't, and won't, stop you. It's not my place."
Silence. Unbearable silence that made the urge to cry even stronger. She grabbed her mug and swallowed down the tepid coffee before rising to refill her mug. After doing so, she kept her back to him; everything that needed to be said had been said.. Clearing her throat to dislodge the lump that had taken residence there, she prayed that her voice wouldn't shake when she spoke. "Maybe you should go."
Silence again, although this one was charged with electricity. She didn't know how he did it but he managed to walk over to her without her realizing it. And just as quickly, she was in his arms and his lips were slanting over hers.
For a second, she resisted; but he was Christopher. She let herself be swept away from that familiar, wonderful feeling that coursed through her veins every time they kissed. Damnit, even after almost 18 years, he still had the same effect on her as he had when they were teenagers. Her fingers found their way into his thick hair as the kiss deepened. In his embrace, the years hadn't passed, mistakes hadn't been made and Sherry didn't exist. It didn't matter what happened tomorrow, or the next week, or the next month. It was just… them.
It was his mumbled declaration of love that made her pull away.
"Don't make it any harder than it has to be," she warned, quickly turning around and wiping her misty eyes with the back of her hand. She took a deep breath to compose herself and then spoke, "You should go."
He hesitated; she knew he did because the air was still. She felt his fingers graze her arm and she braced herself for his touch but he decided against it. Biting back disappointment she wished she didn't feel, she closed her eyes when the sound of footsteps was heard. When they stopped short, she unconsciously held her breath.
"She asked me to marry her."
Her head lowered. She shut her eyes tighter. The breath that she had been holding in slowly swooshed out.
"I can't…" She heard him take a breath and she noticed the unsteadiness of his voice when he said, "I've learnt that I can't love anyone the way I love you."
She gripped the edge of the countertop, defying every cell in her body that screamed at her to go to him. And when that sting in her eyes got stronger, she let the tears fall.
It was like the world stopped for a minute. She knew that he was waiting for her to say something but she bit her tongue. She tightened her hold on the countertop, closing her eyes as she mouthed the words, "I love you, too."
A low, resigned sigh. Then the footsteps started again, this time with a distinct heaviness to them. It was only when his footsteps slowly faded and the front door closed behind him that she allowed the wall she had built around her to crumble.
* * * * *
