Pairing:
R/T, of course, and L/L
Rating:
PG-13 at the most
Spoilers:
May reference anything and everything from Season 1
Disclaimer:
The characters referenced here are the property of Amy Sherman-Palladino,
Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions, and Warner Brother Television. No copyright infringement is intended. The characters are being used solely for
entertainment purposes, and no profit is being made from them.
Part 6: The
Requisite High-School Dance
The following evening, Rory, Lane, and Lorelei were in Lorelei's bedroom, getting the two girls ready for the dance.
"I'm so excited, Rory. I can't believe Henry asked me to a Chilton dance!"
"Why wouldn't he? You're his girlfriend."
Lane sighed. "His girlfriend. Who ever would have thought there'd be a guy both my mother and I liked?"
"Certainly not me," commented Lorelei through a mouthful of bobby pins, as she pinned up Rory's hair in little ringlets. "Then again, I also never thought my little girl would fall for a rich Chilton boy."
"Please, Mom, I'm nervous enough as it is."
"Rory, Tristan is obviously nuts about you," interjected Lane. "I don't know what you're so worried about."
Rory sighed. "I know it's stupid. But I want so badly for this to work."
Half an hour later, the girls were dressed and ready to go. Just as Lorelei applied one last spritz of hairspray to Lane's hair, the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," said Lorelei. "Wait two minutes, then come down."
Two minutes felt more like two hours to Lane and Rory, but at last they were on their way. The boys were talking to Rory's mother, but all conversation ceased when they caught sight of the girls descending the stairs. No one spoke until they reached the bottom, and it was Henry who broke the silence.
"Lane, you look amazing," he complimented her, and she did. Her dress was floor-length and a deep red. There were wide straps over her shoulders, and while it was form fitting at her slender waist, the skirt flared out gently below that.
"Thanks. You look great, too."
As Henry attempted to pin Lane's corsage to her dress without drawing blood, Lorelei turned her attention to Rory and Tristan. Neither had spoken yet, both apparently in awe of the other's presence. At long last, Tristan cleared his throat and found his voice.
"I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you," he whispered. "That's more than a dress. That's an Audrey Hepburn movie."
Rory broke into a wide smile. "I love Jerry Maguire."
Tristan continued to stare at Rory, still stunned that she was actually his date. She was wearing a cobalt-blue strapless dress, with a snug bodice and a full, swirling skirt. Her long, dark hair had been swept back and curled, the glossy ringlets piled atop her head.
Rory was equally impressed by Tristan's appearance. His charcoal-gray suit was obviously professionally tailored, and his blue silk tie accentuated the brightness of his eyes.
As they stood there staring at each other, the awkwardness and discomfort of the previous evening was forgotten. Gallantly, Tristan held out his hand to guide her down from the final step, and Rory graciously accepted it. Gazing at her, Tristan was glad he had opted for a wrist corsage. The smooth, white expanse of skin rising above the top of her dress would have been too much temptation to withstand while fumbling with a corsage pin.
As Tristan slipped the cluster of white rosebuds onto her wrist, she whispered, "You clean up pretty well yourself, Mr. DuGrey."
After Lorelei had used up an entire roll of film, the four teenagers were finally on their way. Rory and Lane gasped with surprise when they stepped outside and saw a black stretch limousine awaiting them.
Smiling, Rory turned to Tristan. "This was your idea, wasn't it." It was more of a statement than a question.
"I told you I had things to do before school yesterday."
Shyly, she said, "And here I was afraid you were mad at me."
"Silly girl." Taking her by the hand, he led her to the car. Behind them, Lane and Henry exchanged a look.
The ride to Hartford passed quickly. Lane kept up a stream of almost non-stop chatter, peppering them with questions about the location of the dance, the people that would be there, whether they were having a band or a DJ, and anything else that popped into her head. Rory mostly leaned back in the luxurious leather seat and watched the world go by through the tinted windows. She could feel magic in the air tonight, and she hoped that for once, life would live up to her expectations. With Tristan by her side, she didn't think it could possibly fall short.
Rory's attention was drawn back into the conversation when it turned to who they thought would be crowned King and Queen.
"Who do you think will win, Henry?" asked Lane.
"Tristan pretty much has the crown tied up, but I think we might be surprised by who wins Queen."
"Do you think Paris might actually pull out a victory?" queried Rory incredulously. "I kind of figured one of the seniors would end up winning."
Henry and Tristan exchanged a glance that did not go unnoticed by their dates. "Okay, spill it, Tristan," ordered Rory. "What do you know that we don't?"
"I don't know anything for sure," he protested weakly. "I just think that this year's Homecoming Queen will be someone that we least expect."
"Well, we'll find out soon enough," noted Lane. "I think we've arrived."
Indeed, the limousine had stopped in front of Chilton, and students were slowly walking towards the imposing building in small groups of two or four. Tristan and Henry quickly exited the car, then held out their hands to assist Rory and Lane. Having never been in a limousine before, neither girl had realized just how tricky it could be to get out of one when wearing a formal dress. At last, though, everyone was standing on the sidewalk, with Lane trying not to teeter in her heels.
Tristan told the driver what time to pick them up, and then the foursome headed inside. They made their way to the cafeteria, which had been transformed into a star-filled galaxy. A stage had been set up at one end of the long room, with two thrones perched upon it. Tables and chairs were scattered around the perimeter of the room, but it was clear that the primary purpose of the room was dancing. Several couples were already out in the center of the room, swaying to Faith Hill's "There You'll Be." Immediately, Henry asked Lane to dance. As he led her onto the floor, Tristan turned to Rory.
"What do you say? Are you up for a dance?"
Suddenly nervous at the thought of being in his arms, Rory hesitated. Pushing aside her fear, she said, "I'd like that."
At first, Rory and Tristan couldn't seem to figure out what to do with their hands. In all the time they had spent together over the past two months, dancing had never been an activity. Finally, Rory worked up the nerve to twine her fingers behind the back of Tristan's neck, while he settled his hands lightly on her narrow waist. Focusing intently on the knot in his tie, Rory's first steps were stiff and awkward.
Lifting one hand from her hip, he tipped her face up to him, much as he had done the night before. "Rory, it's just a dance. You can relax a little."
Embarrassed, Rory instead found herself tensing up even more. Sensing the tightening in her muscles, Tristan began to slowly stroke one hand up and down her back. Knowing that looking her in the eye would only make her more nervous, he gazed instead over her shoulder, and began speaking in a low, soothing voice. "You know, I was thinking the other day about you and your obsession with books. I finally got around to reading The Hobbit, and I really enjoyed it. I'm going to try and get through The Fellowship of the Ring before the movie comes out this winter."
With the conversation entering "safe" territory, Rory visibly relaxed and soon became animated in their discussion of the pros and cons of turning classic novels into feature films. She barely noticed when the music shifted to "Jump, Jive, and Wail," and she and Tristan slipped easily into a swing dance. The faster tempo made it harder to carry on a conversation, but she laughed and persevered. Tristan was an excellent dancer, and effortlessly led her through complicated spins and dips. Although she had only attempted swing dancing once or twice before, Rory felt as though she was floating across the dance floor.
When they ended the song with a dramatic dip, Rory could see from her inverted position that the students had formed a circle around them to watch them dance. Flushed both from the exertion and the attention, she quickly stood up straight and began pulling Tristan towards a table.
"Tired already?"
"No," she replied. "I'm just not used to having everyone staring at me."
"Well, you should probably get used to it, because I intend to dance with you all night." As he spoke, Tristan circled her waist with his arms and pulled her close, noting how perfectly she fit with him, the top of her head resting just below his chin. He lowered his voice so that only she could hear. "Thank you for coming with me tonight, Rory."
Rory was no longer certain whether the warmth infusing every cell in her body was from all the dancing or from being held so close by Tristan. With her head rested against his hard chest, she could hear his heart beating out a staccato rhythm. When she responded, she used the same quiet tone he had, knowing anything louder would break the spell. "Thank you for asking me."
At that moment, Paris came walking up with her date, John. He was tall and gangly, with thick, black-framed glasses and a bad complexion. Rory crossed her mental fingers that Tim would find the courage to approach Paris tonight.
"Hello, Tristan, Rory," she said coolly, not even bothering to introduce her date. "Are you having a nice time?"
Tristan realized that Rory still hadn't made a move to extricate herself from his embrace, despite Paris' nasty looks. Joy swelling within him, he replied jovially, "We're having a wonderful evening, actually. How about you?"
A look of distaste crossed Paris' face as she glanced at her date, and she avoided Tristan's question. Instead, she answered, "I'm sorry, John, this is Tristan DuGrey and Rory Gilmore. Rory, Tristan, meet John Sanders."
Common courtesy dictated that Rory and Tristan release each other, although they both regretted the necessity. They shook hands with John, mumbling vague pleasantries about how nice it was to meet him, blah, blah, blah.
When the requisite small talk was out of the way, Paris focused her attention back on Tristan. "Will you save me a dance tonight?"
"Sorry, I promised all my dances to Rory," he said smoothly, taking Rory's hand in his own.
With a saccharine smile, Paris persisted. "I'm sure Rory wouldn't mind, would you, Rory?"
Finding herself suddenly on the spot, Rory squeezed Tristan's hand tighter. "Well, I, um…I did promise Dan and Tim a dance each."
"Then it's settled," announced Paris. "I'm going to the ladies' room. Would you like to join me, Rory?"
Taken aback by the sudden request, she replied, "Uh, sure." Turning to Tristan, she asked, "Will you tell Lane I'll be right back?"
Stealing a look at the dance floor, where Lane and Henry were completely lost in the world of 98°'s "I Do (Cherish You)," he chuckled and told her, "I'm not sure she'll even notice you're gone."
Reluctantly releasing his hand, Rory turned and followed Paris to the ladies' room. Once inside, Paris checked to make sure that they were alone, then turned on Rory.
"All right, I want the truth. I'm sick of whatever little mind game you're trying to play with me."
"Paris, I'm not trying to play any games, and I haven't lied to you."
"Right. So why is it that you tell me you're not dating Tristan, but every time I see you two together you act like you are? Don't try to feed me some nonsense about being friends, either. Friends don't walk around holding hands, and they certainly don't stand wrapped in each other's embrace, gazing into one another's eyes!"
Stung by the other girl's harsh tone, Rory hung her head. "Paris, honestly, I didn't lie to you. Tristan and I never had a date before tonight. Everything we've ever done has been as friends."
"Why should I believe you?"
"Because it's the truth!"
"How could you do this to me?"
Exasperated, Rory flopped down on the couch located in the bathroom's lounge area. "Can't you see that this has nothing to do with you? I'm sorry that it hurts, but Tristan isn't interested in you that way. Does that mean he's not supposed to date anyone else? My God, I certainly didn't intend to fall for Tristan. I didn't even want to fall for Tristan."
"At least you've finally admitted that you've fallen for him," Paris said softly.
Rory put one hand to her mouth as Paris pointed out what she herself had yet to realize. She had never actually said the words before, but she knew them to be true. "I suppose I have," whispered Rory.
"Well, I hope you two will be very happy together," Paris sneered, although there was more hurt in her tone than anger. As she turned to go, Rory called out to her.
"Paris, wait."
"Haven't you already said enough?"
"Just listen. I know you've liked Tristan a really long time, and you're upset right now. But I think if you just open your eyes, you might discover someone who genuinely likes you and appreciates you in the way that you deserve."
"Yeah, right. No one likes me."
"You're wrong. Lots of people like you. You made Homecoming Court, didn't you?"
"Well, yes, but I won't be Queen."
"You don't know that."
Sadly, Paris gazed at Rory, as if she possessed some secret, devastating knowledge that Rory didn't have. She whispered, "Yes, I do," and then she left.
Rory sat back on the couch. How had this night spiraled out of control so quickly? Had she really just admitted to Paris that she had fallen for Tristan? It was something she had tried to deny for so long, but that was impossible now. She had to tell Tristan the truth--before someone else did.
The door to the bathroom swung open, and Lane walked in.
"Hi! Tristan sent me to make sure that Paris didn't decapitate you."
When Rory looked at her best friend, her eyes were glazed, and she mumbled, "Thanks."
Immediately, Lane sat down on the couch next to her. "Rory, what's wrong? Did Paris say something?"
Rory shook her head. "No, I did."
"I don't understand."
"It's Tristan, Lane."
"What about him?"
"I've fallen for him."
Lane looked at her expectantly. "And?"
Rory furrowed her brow. "What do you mean, and? I just told you that I've fallen for my mortal enemy turned second best friend. What more do you want?"
"Rory," Lane began gently, "I figured out your feelings for Tristan a long time ago, along with pretty much everyone else who has two eyes and a brain. Remember how your mom and Luke used to be? That's how you and Tristan act."
"So everyone knows?"
"Pretty much."
"Even Tristan?"
"Well…" Lane hesitated. "I think Tristan wants more than anything to believe that it's true, but he's afraid it's not, and you'll reject him. I mean it's obvious how much he likes you."
"Do you really think so?"
Lane nodded her head sagely. "I know so."
Feeling the confidence building within her, Rory hugged her best friend, then got to her feet. "Come on, we don't want the guys sending a S.W.A.T. team in here to find us!"
The girls made their way back out on to the dance floor, and quickly found their respective dates. Immediately, Tristan could sense that something was different about Rory.
"Is everything okay?" he asked nervously.
She smiled, her heart nearly overwhelmed by how much he had come to mean to her. "It's better than okay."
He returned her smile, and commented, "Well, you made it back just in time. They're about to announce the King and Queen."
"I'm glad I didn't miss it." Boldly, she positioned herself in front of him, leaning back against his strong chest, and guided his hands around her waist.
Feeling as though the gates of heaven had just opened up to allow him entrance, Tristan bent his head slightly, inhaling the heady aroma of shampoo, perfume, and Rory. He dropped a gentle kiss on the top of her head, and tightened his hold around her waist, feeling her nestle closer.
Their eyes were drawn to the stage, and the student body president stepped to the microphone. "If I could please have your attention…" he began, then waited a few moments for the crowd of students to quiet down. "Would all the Homecoming Court finalists please come forward?" Reluctantly, Tristan released Rory, and made his way to the front of the room.
Once the ten juniors and seniors were assembled on stage, he quickly read off all their names, then turned back to the matter at hand. "It is my pleasure to announce that the 2001 Chilton Homecoming King is…Tristan DuGrey!"
Wild applause erupted throughout the room, but no one's cheers were louder, no one's smile was wider, than Rory's.
The emcee motioned for quiet. "This years marks a first for Chilton. When all of the votes were tallied, it was discovered that a write-in candidate had been elected Queen. It is therefore my honor and privilege to announce that the 2001 Chilton Homecoming Queen is…Rory Gilmore!"
As the applause began again, Lane turned to Rory, squealing and jumping up and down. But Rory just stood there in stunned silence, unable to take even one step towards the stage.
Watching her from his birds-eye vantage point, Tristan could see that she had frozen. He quickly descended the stage, and the crowd parted before him as he headed towards her.
When he finally reached Rory, he held out his hands to her. "Come with me."
Finding the will to smile but still unable to speak, Rory clasped his hand firmly and allowed him to lead her back up to the stage. When they were almost there, she whispered, "I don't understand how this happened."
The characteristic smirk that she had grown to love graced his features, and he murmured back to her, "I told you that you'd get more than two votes."
Her eyes widened. "You did this! Tristan, how?"
"I'll explain everything soon. It's time for you to get your crown."
After Rory had received her tiara and a bouquet of roses, and Tristan was presented with a crown and scepter, the student council president took the microphone once more.
"And now, it's time for the traditional King and Queen dance! Rory, Tristan, 'Here's to the Night.'"
Tristan took Rory by the hand, and guided her off the stage, onto the dance floor. His heart swelled with wonder as she once again settled her arms around his neck, her fingertips gently brushing the hairs at the nape, sending tingles to every extremity of his body. She truly was a queen to him--queen of his heart, queen of his world. Nothing mattered to him more than she did.
Gazing up into his captivating crystal blue eyes, Rory asked once more, "How did this happen?"
He gave her a mischievous look. "Well, let's just say that arranging the limo wasn't the only thing that I had to do yesterday morning."
Her brow furrowed, she pressed for a better explanation. "Details, Tristan. I want details."
Quickly, he outlined the scheme he had concocted. She was stunned that he had gone to all the trouble of stuffing flyers into several hundred students' lockers. "I can't believe you did all that work."
"I wanted to do it, Rory."
"But why?"
He pulled her closer, and she settled comfortably against him. "I thought I made that clear earlier…I promised all my dances to you tonight. Including this one."
Tears were starting to prick at her eyelids. "All that for a dance?"
He shook his head slightly. "No. All that for you."
Overwhelmed by the depth of what she was feeling at that moment, she tightened their embrace even more, giving in to the emotions, allowing the flood of pleasure caused by being near him to wash over her. Two hearts at peace, the words of the Homecoming theme song swirled around them.
So
denied so I lied are you the now or never kind
In a day and a day love I'm gonna be gone for good again
Are you willing to be had are you cool with just tonight
Here's a toast to all those who hear me all too well
Here's to the nights we felt alive
Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry
Here's to goodbye
Tomorrow's gonna come too soon
Put your name on the line along with place and time
Wanna stay not to go I wanna ditch the logical
Here's a toast to all those who hear me all too well
Here's to the nights we felt alive
Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry
Here's to goodbye
Tomorrow's gonna come too soon
All my time is froze in motion
Can't I stay an hour or two or more
Don't let me let you go
Here's a toast to all those who hear me all too well
Here's to the nights we felt alive
Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry
Here's to goodbye
Tomorrow's gonna come too soon
When the song finally ended, Tristan and Rory still clung to each other. They weren't even aware of the other couples joining them on the dance floor. With an unspoken agreement, their movements stilled, their eyes locked on one another. All the feelings from the broken moment at the football game the night before came rushing back. Determined not to let another chance slip by them, surprisingly confident in her newly admitted feelings for Tristan, Rory pushed up onto her tip-toes, and gently, swiftly brushed her lips against his. At his stunned, elated expression, she smiled softly, and then cast her eyes downward as they began to move in time to the song now playing. As they listened to the words, Tristan executed the now-familiar gesture of tipping her face up to his, and whispered, "Listen."
I've
got a funny feeling
The
moment that your lips touched mine
Something
shot right through me
My
heart skipped a beat in time
There's
a different feel about you tonight
It's
got me thinking lots of crazy things
I
think I even saw a flash of light
It
felt like electricity
You
shouldn't kiss me like this unless you mean it like that
Cause
I'll just close my eyes and I won't know where I'm at
We'll
get lost on this dance floor spinning around
And
around and around and around
They're
all watching us now they think we're falling in love
They'd
never believe we're just friends
When
you kiss me like this I think you mean it like that
If
you do baby kiss me again
Everybody
swears we'd make a perfect pair
But
dancing is as far as it goes
Girl
you've never moved me quite the way you moved me tonight
I
just wanted you to know
I
just wanted you to know
You
shouldn't kiss me like this unless you mean it like that
Cause
I'll just close my eyes and I won't know where I'm at
We'll
get lost on this dance floor spinning around
And
around and around and around
They're
all watching us now they think we're falling in love
They'd
never believe we're just friends
When
you kiss me like this I think you mean it like that
If
you do baby kiss me again
The world around them seemed to disappear, and they were certain that they were the only two people in the room. Hearing the words of the song, seeing the silent entreaty in Tristan's eyes, Rory gently pulled his head downwards and kissed him again. This time, it wasn't a rapid, feather-like, barely-there kiss, but a kiss that held promise.
Despite their feeling that they were alone, the pair was actually on a very crowded dance floor, and their actions had not gone unnoticed. Paris stood against one wall, a sour expression on her face. Well, that certainly didn't take long.
Her sulk was interrupted by a quiet voice that said, "They make a nice couple, don't they?"
Startled, Paris jumped slightly, and turned towards the voice. Tristan's friend Tim was standing next to her. She gave a bitter laugh at his comment. "Yeah, they're just adorable." A sad look crossed her face as "Hanging by a Moment" began to play, and Tristan and Rory remained locked in one another's embrace. "So, did you need something, Tim?"
Taken aback by her sharp tone, he stumbled over his response. "Um, actually, I, uh…was wondering if you wanted to dance?"
She looked at him suspiciously. "Is this some kind of a pity thing? Did Rory put you up to this? Because I don't…"
Knowing no other way to shut her up, Tim grasped Paris by the shoulders and kissed her. Although she stiffened at first, she eventually relaxed and began to respond to his kiss. When they broke away, breathless, he explained, "Paris, I'm asking you to dance because I want to dance with you. I've been trying to work up the nerve to ask you out for the past two years, but all you could ever see was Tristan!"
Angrily, he turned and began to walk away.
"Tim, please, wait."
He spun around to face her. "What?"
"If you still want to dance, I'd…I'd like that."
He gave her a relieved smile. "I'd like that, too." Cautiously, he led her onto the dance floor, and together they took their first tentative steps towards a new relationship.
Raising her head from its comfortable position on Tristan's shoulder, Rory glanced around the dance floor. Spotting Paris and Tim dancing, she gave a soft chuckle.
Pulling away slightly so that he could look at her, Tristan asked, "What's so funny?"
"Apparently Tim decided to take my advice."
Puzzled, he glanced over his shoulder, and immediately saw what she was referring to. Grinning, he commented, "At least now I don't have to worry about Paris running after you in the parking lot with a chainsaw."
"Let's hope so, anyway. I want her to be happy, Tris. She's not a bad person. She just can't have you."
He pulled her close once more. "That sounded a little possessive, Gilmore."
"This from the man who almost punched his best friend over a kiss on the cheek?"
"Touché."
"Anyway, it was meant to sound possessive. After all it took for us to be together, I'm not just going to let you go."
Once again pulling back so that he could look her in the eye, he thought his heart would stop when he asked her quietly, "So does that mean we're together now?"
Rory blushed at the assumption she had made. "I mean, if that's what you want, I…"
He silenced her with a quick kiss. "Rory, that's all I've ever wanted."
Her flushed cheeks did not abate at his words. No one had ever made her feel like this before, not even Dean. "I'm sorry it took me so long to figure out what I wanted."
"I would have waited forever if that's what it took."
"Why?"
Because I love you. Not wanting to pressure her, knowing she wasn't yet ready to hear those words, he replied instead, "It's like I told your mother--you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."
Awe filling her beautiful blue eyes, she stared up at him. "You never seem to stop surprising me."
"Then I hope I never will."
As they became caught up in the dance once more, Lane looked over at them and sighed. Then she started to laugh.
"What's so funny?" Henry queried.
"I just realized that today was one of my picks in the Rory-Tristan betting pool. I think I just won $100!"
"You actually had a pool going?"
"Oh yeah. Babette won when Luke and Lorelei hooked up."
"So how did everyone know that Rory and Tristan would get together?"
Lane looked at him incredulously. "Oh, c'mon, Henry. It was so obvious."
"If you say so."
"Well, I do say so. I'm just glad it didn't take much longer, or I was going to be sorely tempted to smack Rory silly. How could she not tell that he was madly in love with her?"
Henry became serious. "So does that mean you can tell I'm madly in love with you?"
Flabbergasted, Lane stopped dancing. "What did you say?"
"I love you, Lane. And I don't want you to feel like you have to say it back right away, because I know what happened with Dean and Rory, and…"
She pressed a finger to his lips to silence him. "Henry, I love you too."
He smiled warmly, and then bent his head to give her a passionate kiss. "Then we're agreed. Oh, and Lane?"
"Yeah?"
"I think I just won $150 from the pool the guys and I had going about Rory and Tristan."
Swatting him playfully, she laughed and pulled him back into the dance. "Then I guess you and I are going to go on the best date ever."
He raised his eyebrows. "Did you have anything in particular in mind?"
"I'm sure we'll think of something…together."
The remainder of the night passed quickly. Rory danced once each with Dan, Tim, and Henry, and while she danced with Tim, Paris finally got her dance with Tristan. Rory couldn't help noticing, though, that all through the dance, Paris kept glancing over at her and Tim. Dan was a little disappointed that he didn't get to institute his plan to get Rory and Tristan together, but was nonetheless pleased that they had worked things out on their own.
When the night was over, the limo dropped off Lane and Henry first, and Tristan and Rory finally found themselves on the Gilmore front porch. As they stood there, the bells from one of the churches in town began to strike midnight.
Rory giggled, and said, "All night I've felt like Cinderella. I hope I don't turn into a pumpkin now."
Holding both her hands in his, Tristan began caressing small circles on the backs of her hands with the pads of his thumbs. With mock seriousness, he corrected her, "Cinderella didn't turn into a pumpkin, Rory. She stayed exactly who she was, only without a good wardrobe."
"What are you trying to say, Tristan, that I have a bad wardrobe?" she joked.
"No. I'm trying to say that you are the most beautiful person I have ever known, inside and out, and it wouldn't matter to me if you were wearing a potato sack. I'd still be crazy about you." He leered suggestively. "Actually, the potato sack might be kind of sexy."
She groaned. "Well, I'm glad you haven't changed too much."
"Oh, but I have. You've changed me. And I'm never going to be the same."
"You've changed me, too, Tristan." She pulled her hands free and wrapped them around his neck. She leaned forward conspiratorially and said softly, "No one's ever made me feel the way you do."
"No one?"
"No one."
He caught her up in a tender kiss then, knowing that when it was over their magical night would end. Just as he was about to reluctantly release her, he was stunned to feel her tongue flick out to sweep along his bottom lip. More than willing to allow her to deepen the kiss, his body shuddered with need as their tongues dueled. Rory, for her part, was half convinced that she had just been struck by lightning, as a burning passion raced through her. Every cliché she had ever heard but never experienced was suddenly happening to her--the fireworks, the shooting stars, the birds singing. Her knees were actually buckling, and she clung more tightly to Tristan. He was like a furnace, the hard planes of his body molding so perfectly to her soft curves, radiating a heat that threatened to consume her. His hands swept up and down her back, leaving tingling trails along her bare skin. A slow burn began to build in the pit of her stomach, and she buried her hands in his soft hair, desperate to bring him closer. At last, desperate for air, they broke apart, gasping rapidly as they gazed into one another's eyes.
"Wow," they murmured in unison. When Rory blushed and began to duck her head, Tristan took her face in his hands.
"Rory, you know I've kissed a lot of girls…" She grimaced at the reminder. "…but I have to tell you, that was the single most amazing, intense, beautiful, passionate thing I have ever experienced. Do you know why that is?"
Flustered by his intensity, she replied flippantly, "Because all that practice finally made you good at it?"
Not to be deterred, he continued. "No, Rory. It's because you're the only one who's ever mattered to me. You're the only one who's ever made me feel this way. I honestly believe that you're the only one who ever will."
A lance of fear shot through Rory. Suddenly, things seemed far too serious. What if he told her he loved her? What if she couldn't say it back? What if he left her the same way Dean had?
Seeing the panic in her eyes, Tristan knew he couldn't say anything more. Instead, he kissed her gently on the forehead. "Good-night, Rory."
"Good-night, Tristan." Still in something of a panic, Rory let herself into the house, and began to cry.
* * *