Disclaimer: I own nothing. (Why do you think I'm writing this?)
This story just proves that inspiration can hit at anytime. My muse seems to only come out a one in the morning, just before I fall asleep. Hope you like it. I'm still a little (a lot) drowsy, so my judgement's pretty off.
A 3ish-parter. It's pretty much a rewrite of that ugly patch in season 5 Luke and Lorelai broke up. Necessary but painful, nonetheless. Maybe I'll even venture into the season after... Obviously, I've haven't really planned this out too thoroughly.
Paradox
Part 1: Softly
By I.M.
"At this time, if you're in love, I invite you to join Emily and Richard on the dance floor."
"You wanna dance?" Lorelai asked, leaning over and giving him a warm smile.
"No thanks," he answered gruffly.
"Please? I promise I will dance just as spazzy as you will."
"I do not dance spazzy."
"Then I will be the only spaz on the floor. Please?"
"I do not dance spazzy," he repeated. But of course he got up.
And as his hand found its usual place on her waist, and he placed his other hand softly in her hers, he suddenly heard the words that had been spoken: if you're in love.
She loved him.
He loved her.
Luke never thought she'd tell him first. Technically, she didn't. But since when was Lorelai ever technical? He knew it was hard for her to love anyone other than her daughter. She had told him so, one night before she had drifted off to sleep. Of course, he had finally gotten up the courage to ask.
"I don't think I've ever loved anyone except Rory," Lorelai had mumbled into her pillow. "But you're getting pretty damn close," she had whispered afterwards. She thought he hadn't heard. He was glad Lorelai sucked at whispering.
They danced. He complained. But he had to keep up the façade. He couldn't let her know how light-headed he got when they were dancing, how every cell in his body tingled from her soft touch. How he loved how he could finally hold her close, after wishing it for so long. How, when they danced, swaying slowly… slowly, how no one had a doubt that she was his and he was hers. And so they danced. And suddenly it hit Luke. He never wanted to stop dancing.
He stopped. She stopped. He was silent. She was concerned. She called his name, so gently, so softly. He looked down, right into her eyes. He had heard they were windows to the soul. He thought that whoever said that was a damn fool, that she was still a mystery to him. She touched his hand. Softly, so softly. He whispered her name. Lorelai.
Luke. He needed to be alone with her, away from judgmental eyes and painful expectations. He needed to be alone with her… just not alone.
"Luke! Luke, what are you doing?" she exclaimed. Without a word, Luke had pulled her into the empty hall outside.
She stood in front of him, waiting, waiting. He took a shuddering breath. Now or never. He opened his mouth. Now or never. He said it: three words.
I love you.
I love you, too.
She said it without hesitance or contemplation.
He grinned. The words hung in the air, not awkwardly, not doubtfully. It hung in the air with confidence, with pureness. She loved him, too.
I want to marry you.
Her mouth hung open. She looked like a character from the Sunday morning cartoons she made him watch. He would have laughed if he wasn't holding his breath or clenching his jaw or silently praying for happiness. Now or never…
"What?"
"I know we haven't been dating for very long… but this is right. I can feel it. We're right, we're perfect."
"Yes." Softly, she answered.
"Wait… yes?"
"Yes."
His hands found her waist. Her fingers slowly interlinked with his. Their lips, though, they found each other. Softly, so softly… they kissed.
...so? It's not really my usual style, but I'd get up more often at one if you enjoyed it. I'd appreciate your input.
And I'd also like to thank all my faithful readers and reviewers. Your support and feedback means a lot to me and really keeps me going. So... thanks.