I Mean, You Came Here...

She's disoriented when she wakes up in the middle of the night, vivid images of walking the streets of New York alone at night making her curl up in the bed. For a moment she contemplates waking her mother up, or just crawl in beside her, but something is stopping her.

She's not a little girl anymore. She's 18, legally a grown up, and she thinks that, maybe, she should be able to deal with a disconcerting dream without her mother. So she lays there in the dark, hugging herself, until the unpleasant feeling dissipates. But she still can't get back to sleep.

She's really thirsty, and actually a bit hungry, despite the enormous amount of food she consumed not that long ago, and soon realizes she won't be able to get back to sleep like this. She remembers seeing a vending machine at the far end of the hallway, and hopes there's something there that's eatable.

With a sigh she gets out of bed, instantly missing the warm and cozy cocoon she's made under the covers. Shivering slightly she tip toes over to her bag, grateful for the dim light filtering in through the window, and digs up a sweater. Then she finds her wallet, pulling out a ten dollar bill, and lastly she creeps over to her mother's bag, carefully searching for the key.

After a brief glance towards her mom, sleeping soundly in the bed, she slowly walks over to the door, opening it as silently as possible and slips out, closing it behind her carefully. She leans back against the door for a few moments, eyes closed, listening for any sounds, but all is quiet.

It's not like she's avoiding looking at the door across the hall, she just tries not to think too much about what she might find behind it. Because right now her imagination is a very dangerous thing.

So she takes a deep breath and turns left, walking quickly to the end of the hallway, and finds the vending machine where she remembers seeing it. With a slight frown she takes in the meager offerings, wondering when it was last stocked, but eventually gets a snickers bar and a Pepsi, wincing at the loud clang of the can hitting the bottom, hoping it didn't wake anyone up.

After retrieving her snack, she stands there for a while, contemplating what to do next. She doesn't want to go back into her room, doesn't want to risk waking her mom up. But she doesn't really want to sit out here in the hallway. She supposes the lobby is an option, but she wouldn't feel comfortable there either.

Her eyes fall on door 304, and she can't help but feel drawn towards it, or rather towards what's behind it. It really is like a magnet pulling her in, and before she's had time to analyze the feeling any further she's outside the door, knocking.

It only takes her a second to panic, and then she's fumbling around for the key in her pocket so she can escape, but in her haste drops it. Half-yelling a protest, she quickly squats on the floor, grabbing the key. And then she hears the lock click and freezes.

The door opens and he's standing there, casually leaning against the wall beside it, wearing a long sleeved t-shirt and sweatpants, and she suddenly can't make a single sound.

"Hey," he smirks, appearing completely unbothered by the place and time for this meeting. "Thought that was you I heard."

"Hey," she mumbles, and then starts a rambling apology while she quickly gets to her feet. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I don't really know why I'm here. I just…" And then his comment sinks in and she can feel a telltale blush creeping up her cheeks as his smirk morphs into a smile and she wonders how loud she yelled.

"I wasn't asleep," he shrugs, then raises an eyebrow. "You hungry again?"

She blinks, still contemplating the fact that he recognized her voice. "Huh?"

"Looks like you bought supplies," he says, motioning towards her hand.

"Oh, right," she nods. "Well…yeah, I needed something, and this was pretty much what I could find in the vending machine."

"Fancy," he smirks, with a teasing glint in his eye.

She doesn't know what comes over her then, but suddenly she almost launches herself at him, crashing her lips to his, the force of it making him stumble backwards into the room and the wall right inside. He reacts quickly and kisses her back, his hands cradling her face for a moment before moving down to her waist, pulling her closer. Her own hands soon find their way into his hair and then down to his shoulders as she pushes herself into his body, wanting more. The soda and candy bar fall to the floor, forgotten.

She's never experienced anything like this, the emotions swirling around inside of her overwhelming, and when she feels his tongue pressing against her mouth she eagerly lets him in, and then follows his lead, tasting and exploring. She's never kissed like this before, with so much passion and urgency.

When they eventually break the kiss she's almost dizzy, and she leans her forehead against his, glad he's holding her because she doesn't trust her legs.

"Wow," she breathes out. "That was…" She stops because she can't find the words to describe it.

"Yeah."

He reaches up with a hand to caress her cheek and she leans into the touch. She never wants to let go. She never wants this moment to end.

They both seem to have the same thought because only moments later they're kissing again. She has no idea who initiated it, but she doesn't care one bit as he leaves her mouth, kissing his way down to her neck. She gasps as his tongue trails over particularly sensitive spots, and then again when his hand finds its way inside her shirt, leaving burning fingerprints as it travels up her back.

She's lost in the sensation of it all, her eyes closed as she instinctively lets her head roll back slightly to give him more access, her hands clutching desperately at his shoulders.

Then he tightens his hold on her and she can't help but release a surprised yelp as he quickly turns them around so it's her back pressed against the wall. The new position is giving him more room to explore her exposed skin, but it also allows her hands free range over his back. Soon she mimics his earlier actions, letting her hand slip under his shirt, at first just pressing her palm against the smooth skin at his lower back, but soon she grows bolder, her fingers slowly exploring this new territory.

He finds a spot right below her left ear and she lets out a low moan. She can almost feel his smirk against her skin, but she just leans her head more to the side, hoping he'll do whatever it was he did again. He does, and she melts a little. Her hand continues its slow path up his back, and the other one grabs at his shoulder blade, pressing to bring him in closer to her body at the same time as she shifts her weight on her feet.

The combination pushes her leg in between his, and she can suddenly feel more clearly the effect this is having on him. He reacts immediately, pressing his body even closer into her, a throaty groan escaping as his teeth bites down on her earlobe. She gasps, clutching at his back to steady her breathing, an unexpected wave of exhilaration rushing through her.

She wonders fleetingly how nothing of this is making her even the slightest bit uncomfortable, even though she's never gone this far before, and she literally just met him. But soon her wandering thoughts all dissolve as his mouth finds hers again and she eagerly kisses him back, her fingers pressing into his skin.

After a while they slow down, their actions becoming less frantic, his hand gently tangling in her hair, cradling the back of her head, and she lets her other hand join the first one under his shirt.

That's where she finds something that shouldn't be there. She slowly traces her fingers along the jagged edge, a frown starting to form on her forehead as she wonders what could've possibly caused it, but then he suddenly lets go of her, moving away into the room. She blinks at the unexpected turn of events and takes a deep breath to try and steady herself.

"Jess…" she tries, swallowing hard as she watches him, his back almost completely turned, shoulders hunched, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. His breathing is labored, his head bowed.

She feels disoriented, trying to process his sudden move and the loss of contact, her body still humming from their previous activities. She briefly wonders who closed the door, and when, but then she shakes her head and focuses on the matter at hand.

She carefully pushes herself off the wall, finding her balance, and takes a couple of slow steps until she's once more standing in front of him. He doesn't move, but she can almost feel him tense even more as he's obviously trying to get his breathing under control. Then she reaches out a hand to touch his arm and his eyes dart up to her face, his expression betraying his surprise.

"Are you ok?" she asks, concerned, wondering what's running through his mind, trying not to think about what could possibly have caused the scar she felt before.

He just stares at her for a few moments, but then takes a deep breath. "Sorry," he mutters, and she can almost see him close himself off. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

"Which part?" she asks, frowning at him as she tries to understand what's happening. "Us meeting? The kissing? Or what?"

"I don't know," he says dejectedly, shaking his head.

"I was supposed to go back to my life and forget about you?" she asks, remembering the words she overheard earlier, not sure if she's more angry or saddened by what she's beginning to understand is his protection mechanism.

He doesn't answer, but he might as well have, his silence speaking volumes.

"Well, too bad," she throws back, the angry part of her taking over. "It's way too late for that now."

He swallows, and then nods. "Yeah."

Her anger is gone almost as soon as it flared up. "Can I see?" she asks tentatively, searching his face, trying to figure out what he's thinking.

He blinks and then his eyes dart up to hers again. "What?"

She slowly moves her hand to his side and she can feel him shrink away from the touch when she reaches the scar. "Can I see?" she asks again, her voice low but steady, determined.

He seems to be completely frozen for a few seconds, and she's about to open her mouth to try and convince him when he takes a deep breath. "Ok."

"Ok," she echoes, watching as he takes a small step back and then grabs the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head, his eyes never leaving hers.

She keeps her gaze locked on his, but she can see the bruises clear enough without looking down and feels tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. She swallows and then reaches out a tentative hand to touch his chest, her eyes following the movement of her fingers. He's thin. She already knew that, could feel it moments earlier, but it's different to see it for real.

And the bruises. They aren't new, that much she can tell, but she's pretty sure they must still hurt even though they've started to fade. She refuses to let her tears fall, and forces herself to look up and meet his gaze.

"What happened?" she breathes out, her voice breaking slightly.

"Mugging," he says shortly. "Few days ago."

"Oh." She doesn't say anything else, somehow sensing he's not going to answer now anyway, and instead lowers her eyes once more and moves slowly around him, fingers lightly tracing over his skin.

She reaches his side and sees the scar, barely able to hold back her gasp, her eyes instinctively searching for his.

"Parting present from my latest so-called step father," he says flatly, watching her steadily.

"But… What? How…?" she stutters, feeling the first tear trickle down her cheek. "Why?"

Jess shrugs. "He was stoned? I wasn't clearing out fast enough? He felt like it? Pick one, or all of'em, or a whole bunch of others, and it'll probably be true."

She's afraid to ask, but she needs to know. "What did he do?"

"Threw a bottle. Wasn't the first time, but unfortunately for me, this time he lost his balance and smashed it into the wall first." His voice is still completely void of all emotion, and it unnerves her to no end. "I don't think either of them realized what happened, they were too far gone by then."

She stares at him in utter disbelief. "Your mom was there?"

"She's the one who threw me out. He just made sure I went."

"Oh," she mumbles, making the connection. "I don't know what to say."

"So don't say anything."

"But…"

"Look, I told you I've had a hellish couple of weeks. Months actually. There's really nothing else to say."

He's not looking at her any longer, and then he pulls the shirt back over his head, as if to punctuate the end of the conversation. Rory sighs, knowing it would be foolish to press forward, but she's almost burning with curiosity.

They just stand there awkwardly for some time, Jess turned partly away from her, appearing to be studying his feet, and Rory can't quite wrap her head around everything that's happened in the short time since she threw herself at him. The whole night has been an emotional roller coaster, the past quarter of an hour especially so.

"Jess," Rory eventually says, biting her lower lip nervously.

"Yeah…" he says slowly, almost more of an exhale than a real word.

"Your life scares me," she admits.

He nods, looking even more dejected than ever, and then sighs. "Ok."

"And I don't know what this…thing between us is," she quickly continues, afraid he's about to close off completely. "But I know one thing. That I can't imagine never seeing you again."

Jess looks up at that, and doesn't hide the surprised look on his face fast enough. "Oh."

Rory chooses not to say anything about it. "It's so strange. I know, logically, that we just met, and I know next to nothing about you, but…" She trails off, not sure how to explain what she means.

"It feels like I've known you for a long time," Jess finishes, and Rory's eyes widen in surprise.

"Exactly!" she agrees. "I wasn't sure if it was just me or…"

"It wasn't."

She can't help but smile at that, and then, almost as if on cue, her stomach grumbles, making her blush.

"You should be studied," Jess chuckles, and just like that the awkwardness is gone again.

Rory's smile returns and she goes to pick up her snacks. "You want anything?" she asks.

Jess shakes his head, and then looks down, dragging a hand through his hair. "You wanna…maybe, stay a while?"

"Oh."

"I mean, you don't have to, obviously, but I just though. I mean, you came here…"

"Yes," Rory interrupts, smiling at his apparent nervousness.

"I thought we could… I mean, we don't have to…" Then he frowns. "What?"

"Yes," Rory repeats.