I'm beginning to see the light
A/N:: Well – it's been a while folks. Sorry about that! Hope everyone's doing okay out there. Just a little sweet oneshot, set at some point in season 5, to help everyone's Sunday along. (Disclaimer - don't own anything.). It's based on the song 'I'm beginning to see the light' by Ella Fitzgerald - which I don't own either :)
Hope you enjoy – let me know what you think!
The moonlight, in all it's silver majesty flowed in through the gap in the (admittedly flowery) curtains, bathing the room in a gentle glow. It played softly across the faces of the couple tangled in the bed on the far side of the apartment, highlighting the contented expressions adorning both.
Luke Danes groaned slightly as the light woke him, used to sleeping in the complete dark, usually awake before dawn. He'd not had chance (or presence of mind) to fully close the curtains the evening before, when he and Lorelai had returned from dinner, and tumbled happily into bed together.
'Happily' was not a word Luke was used to associating with himself, he pondered, as he watched the moonlight turn Lorelai's dark hair silver, where it was spread over his chest. Content in his life – yes, even satisfied in a sense of accomplishment, having built a business from scratch, all by himself, and being almost proud in its success. But happy – no, that was usually left for other people.
Luke Danes had always assumed he would eventually die alone. It wasn't a melancholy thought, not particularly sad, though it did fill him with a certain amount of dread at its impending certainty.
It was a really forgone conclusion when one looked at his family history. His Grandpa had died alone – wife having left him many years prior. His Dad had died alone – Liz had gone, his Mom had died, and Luke hadn't made it to the hospital in time. Even Uncle Louis had died alone (though that really hadn't surprised anyone). So, for all his life, Luke had worked on the assumption, that a happy, lasting, family life - the type he saw snippets of in the diner, all day, every day, causing slight resentment to build drip by drip, until it festered into a bitterness he didn't really recognise in himself - that that life wasn't for him.
Rachel had been his first attempt at grabbing onto that sort of life for himself. Determined, in his youth, to rebel against the thought that curled in the back of his mind – the image of himself alone and old terrifying him into clinging tightly to his girlfriend, urging her to fit into the domestic bliss that he saw all around the small town. Of course, Rachel had never really been the 'domestic bliss' sort of person – a free spirit with no ties to anywhere, or anything, her independence and excitement at life had been one of the things that had drawn him to her. One of the things that kept him latching back on every time she flew back through his life like a hurricane, leaving nothing but debris behind for him to pick back up. He'd eventually seen (though it had taken more than a decade) that Rachel was never going to want the type of life that he pretended he didn't want, but secretly yearned for. And so, he'd let her go.
After that, Luke had decided to make no secret of the fact that actually, he wanted commitment from the next woman he dated. Dating Nicole had started as a dare – a proof to his nephew that he wasn't too hung up on Lorelai to make any move on anyone else (and a proof to himself that he wasn't her lapdog – waiting around for her to show him any interest). Nicole was settled, with a good, steady job, that required minimal travel, and family and friends in the local area.
Commitment was what he'd got, too. Marriage. It'd turned out, though, that he wasn't much good at that either. Or maybe, it was just that him and Nicole weren't much good at being together. And so, he'd let her go.
Lorelai had always been there, though, Luke mused, watching the soft moonlight play over her gentle face. It illuminated the curve of her cheek, her sloping nose, the tendrils of hair that had tumbled over her forehead. Throughout it all, Lorelai had been in the background – the friend that never left (even when he'd pushed her out), and the crush he'd never really gotten over. It'd been a bone of contention with Nicole, his relationship with Lorelai (though what hadn't been a bone of contention with Nicole, now he thought about it), and it'd been Rachel's last words to him, too.
Don't wait too long, she'd said. Well. Four years wasn't too long, was it? Not when it'd ended up with them here, with Lorelai half over his chest, long legs tangled with his, and stealing his covers for herself (words couldn't express how unsurprised he'd been when she'd announced, unceremoniously, that the covers were hers, and he could either cuddle, or get cold. He'd opted for cuddling – like any sane man with a Lorelai Gilmore in their bed would do).
Pursuing Lorelai had ignited all sorts of romantic tendencies Luke hadn't even known he possessed. Staring at the moonlit sky, watching the light play over his girlfriend's face, for one. He took her for dinners, watched her delight at the fireflies that danced in the dusk, and held her hand when she looked up at the stars.
Never before had Luke taken a girlfriend for a walk through a park just to see the smile on her face when she realised the squirrels in this particular spot came right down to the benches. She'd given them all names and voices, and laughed when they stole a nut from the bird feeder behind her.
He'd mentioned this to her, once, and she'd laughed airily, and murmured something about wanting to get her in bed, diner-man, before skipping upstairs in a skirt that had almost made him forget his train of thought. She was like that – though – never wanting to hear that she was so different, so special that he -. Oh.
That he loved her.
Well – that was new.
Luke Danes had never really, properly been in love. Had never thought he would be - it was a part of the whole 'dying alone' prophecy that he'd signed up for. Once the whole 'eternal pining' thing with Rachel hadn't worked out, and once marriage (the thing he thought they'd been missing) hadn't either, Luke had assumed that that was it. He'd given it a go with Lorelai because he liked her, yes. Because he'd been sort of pining for her for years, because a book had told him he should make a move, and it'd seemed serendipitous timing, and because – oh. Oh again. Because of the feeling in his gut that told him he was comfortable with her.
Comfortable sitting on her sofa watching her commentate on a movie he never had any intention of watching. Comfortable and happy (but also a little concerned) watching her race around getting ready for a date, fishing socks out of the oven. Warm and comfortable and safe and happy in bed, with the only woman he'd ever dated that wanted to cuddle.
It had never really occurred to Luke, in his quest to avoid his believed destiny, clinging on to the women he'd dated just a little too hard, desperate to make them stay with him, to fit into the mould, and make sure he'd never be left alone again – that what he'd been missing, the secret ingredient that had contributed to the downfall of all previous relationships – was love. Was romance, and the desire to, for lack of better words floating around in a revelation-struck mind at 4 am – woo one's partner.
He, Luke Danes, loved Lorelai Gilmore. Loved her so completely and whole-heartedly that it consumed him, like a flame burning on an eternal wick, but never scorching him, just warming him gently for ever more.
He tightened his arms around her, shaking her lightly, unable to keep this revelation to himself. She grumbled as he dragged her from her sleep, nose crinkling at distaste in being awoken. Lorelai blinked up at him sleepily, frowning when she saw the expression on his face.
Before she could speak, though, he kissed her, waking her up more effectively than any quantity of caffeine could. Once he drew back, fully certain of his conclusion, he murmured the words to her, for the first time in his life completely sure of what he was saying.
Lorelai blinked again, then a dazzling smile lit up her face, soothing the panic that had started to curl in his stomach about her response to his revelation.
She kissed him again, harder, wrapping her arms around his torso. Once they were completely out of breath, panting and seeing stars, she whispered; "Love you, too. Only next time you have something you want to tell me? Try to do it after coffee." Luke chuckled, bring his lips back down to hers, and kissing her soundly once more. He withdrew, and, seeing the giddiness that had taken over her expression, solemnly promised to try and wait until a more palatable hour in future.
Lorelai nodded, and then sealed the promise with a kiss.
Luke Danes had always expected to die alone. But then again, Luke Danes had never expected to feel love so strong that he just had to wake up his girlfriend at 4 am to tell her. He'd never seen the virtue of romance, of delicate gestures, of flowers and of poetry and all the sappy stuff he'd always laughed at. But maybe, he thought, as he kissed Lorelai over and over, murmuring his love into her moon-lit skin, maybe he was beginning to see the light.
A/N:: Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought. I'll try not to let it go as long before I post again. Thanks for reading!