Author's Notes: Thank you all so much for your reviews. Feedback is so
great, I completely understand why some people demand 10 reviews to a
chapter, LOL. But I won't do that. Not yet, anyway, hehe. Please keep
reviewing!
I'm having a bit of a dilemma. There's a plot I want to do that I know is kind of oerused, but I'm unable to decide, because I want to do it. Sight. Well, keep up with the reviews, maybe give me a few suggestions, and perhaps I'll use a different idea.
**************************************************************************** **********
Rory reached her house, short of breath and full of thoughts. Pausing for a minute to remove her bulky sweatshirt, she inspected the windows. She found no lights on, and she sighed in relief. She crept quietly to her window, feeling like the bad girl she'd never been, and always wanted to be. She opened it slowly, wincing at the slight creak that emitted from the un- oiled hinge, and swung one leg over the sill. She was halfway in when she caught sight of the figure on her bed.
"Where have you been, my most loved child?" Lorelai asked. She was sitting serenely on Rory's bed, hands clasped, eyes closed. Despite her seemingly calm appearance, her pursed lips gave way to the slight seriousness in her words. She wanted truth.
"I was just out for a walk, I couldn't sleep," Rory explained pleadingly, combating her mother's inquisitive gaze with an innocent one of her own.
"Interesting….was, perhaps, Dean on this innocent walk of yours?" Lorelai asked inquisitively, raising her eyebrows with the interest of an avid gossiper, very Miss-Patty like.
"No, Mom!" Rory protested. "Just me. Only me. I was alone."
"Don't believe you!" her mother said in a singsong voice, wagging one finger in her only daughter's direction.
"Mom, it's true!"
"Alright, HYPOTHETICALLY, if this is true. Why go out for a walk? At—" Lorelai glanced over at the glowing red numbers on Rory's night stand. "3 in the morning?"
"I don't know," Rory sighed, sitting down next to her mother as she decided to confess her feelings. "I felt trapped."
"That's impossible. Your room is bigger than mine," Lorelai argued, yawning.
"Not physically, mentally! Oh, never mind," Rory sighed deciding her mother could never be serious and actually have a normal conversation. The thought shocked her. She never had these kinds of thoughts about her mother. She loved her, they understood each other perfectly. Her guilty though train was interrupted by the protests of Lorelai.
"No, I'll listen. You felt trapped. Why?" Lorelai asked, her face morphing from the joking Lorelai most knew best to the understanding, thoughtful mother Rory enjoyed, but who didn't show up enough.
"That's just it, I don't really know," she sighed, lying back on her pillow as she kicked off her shoes.
"What MIGHT it be?" Rory stared up at the ceiling above her bed. "Dean?" Lorelai hinted as she stroked Rory's hair soothingly.
Rory nodded, "I think that may be part of it, but I don't know." She closed her eyes, a sign to her mother that she wanted to be left alone. Lorelai picked up on it and kissed her cheek softly, then left the room.
Rory changed back into the pajamas she'd strewn haphazardly across her floor and crawled into bed for the second time that night. Her thoughts instantly jetted to the conversation by the lake, and a content smile crept across her face.
Sleep came to Rory after endless tossing and turning. And for the first time in awhile her dreams were bliss.
Unlike every other time Jess had snuck out of the house to go running, this time he was not instantly tired when he returned to the apartment. The thoughts he'd usually cleared out of his full mind had invaded again when Rory had infringed on his solitary time.
Not that he minded all that much. But as she was the cause of all his insistent thoughts, he thought he had a right to be slightly miffed that now he'd have to endure another night of sleeplessness.
Dozens of feelings flitted about in his mind. He felt torn between elation at their conversation, frustration that it had been over so soon, and disappointment that he'd not said the million things that he'd wanted to say since the first time he saw her.
He nodded to Luke as his uncle opened the door for him.
Luke knew about these late-night jaunts. After the third or fourth time he'd gone out, he'd been caught during his reentry. Luke hadn't pried, as Jess's mother undoubtedly would have done, but simply accepted Jess's need for "something", and allowed him the freedom to run.
Jess went into the bathroom, stripping off his t-shirt and shorts. Stepping into the shower, he turned on the faucet and winced as the icy-cold water hit his warm body. He let the liquid run over his shoulders, down his defined abs, trickle down his toned legs and into the drain at his feet.
He stepped out, grabbing a well-used towel from the rack by him and wiped of the excess water from his tanned skin. He glanced at himself in the mirror, averting his eyes from the thin scar on his chest.
He walked into his room, pulling on a pair of boxers as he climbed into bed. He pulled the comforter up to his chin, his eyes wide open. His thoughts jumped from topic to topic, but they all were about her.
When he finally fell asleep, it was with a smile on his lips.
I'm having a bit of a dilemma. There's a plot I want to do that I know is kind of oerused, but I'm unable to decide, because I want to do it. Sight. Well, keep up with the reviews, maybe give me a few suggestions, and perhaps I'll use a different idea.
**************************************************************************** **********
Rory reached her house, short of breath and full of thoughts. Pausing for a minute to remove her bulky sweatshirt, she inspected the windows. She found no lights on, and she sighed in relief. She crept quietly to her window, feeling like the bad girl she'd never been, and always wanted to be. She opened it slowly, wincing at the slight creak that emitted from the un- oiled hinge, and swung one leg over the sill. She was halfway in when she caught sight of the figure on her bed.
"Where have you been, my most loved child?" Lorelai asked. She was sitting serenely on Rory's bed, hands clasped, eyes closed. Despite her seemingly calm appearance, her pursed lips gave way to the slight seriousness in her words. She wanted truth.
"I was just out for a walk, I couldn't sleep," Rory explained pleadingly, combating her mother's inquisitive gaze with an innocent one of her own.
"Interesting….was, perhaps, Dean on this innocent walk of yours?" Lorelai asked inquisitively, raising her eyebrows with the interest of an avid gossiper, very Miss-Patty like.
"No, Mom!" Rory protested. "Just me. Only me. I was alone."
"Don't believe you!" her mother said in a singsong voice, wagging one finger in her only daughter's direction.
"Mom, it's true!"
"Alright, HYPOTHETICALLY, if this is true. Why go out for a walk? At—" Lorelai glanced over at the glowing red numbers on Rory's night stand. "3 in the morning?"
"I don't know," Rory sighed, sitting down next to her mother as she decided to confess her feelings. "I felt trapped."
"That's impossible. Your room is bigger than mine," Lorelai argued, yawning.
"Not physically, mentally! Oh, never mind," Rory sighed deciding her mother could never be serious and actually have a normal conversation. The thought shocked her. She never had these kinds of thoughts about her mother. She loved her, they understood each other perfectly. Her guilty though train was interrupted by the protests of Lorelai.
"No, I'll listen. You felt trapped. Why?" Lorelai asked, her face morphing from the joking Lorelai most knew best to the understanding, thoughtful mother Rory enjoyed, but who didn't show up enough.
"That's just it, I don't really know," she sighed, lying back on her pillow as she kicked off her shoes.
"What MIGHT it be?" Rory stared up at the ceiling above her bed. "Dean?" Lorelai hinted as she stroked Rory's hair soothingly.
Rory nodded, "I think that may be part of it, but I don't know." She closed her eyes, a sign to her mother that she wanted to be left alone. Lorelai picked up on it and kissed her cheek softly, then left the room.
Rory changed back into the pajamas she'd strewn haphazardly across her floor and crawled into bed for the second time that night. Her thoughts instantly jetted to the conversation by the lake, and a content smile crept across her face.
Sleep came to Rory after endless tossing and turning. And for the first time in awhile her dreams were bliss.
Unlike every other time Jess had snuck out of the house to go running, this time he was not instantly tired when he returned to the apartment. The thoughts he'd usually cleared out of his full mind had invaded again when Rory had infringed on his solitary time.
Not that he minded all that much. But as she was the cause of all his insistent thoughts, he thought he had a right to be slightly miffed that now he'd have to endure another night of sleeplessness.
Dozens of feelings flitted about in his mind. He felt torn between elation at their conversation, frustration that it had been over so soon, and disappointment that he'd not said the million things that he'd wanted to say since the first time he saw her.
He nodded to Luke as his uncle opened the door for him.
Luke knew about these late-night jaunts. After the third or fourth time he'd gone out, he'd been caught during his reentry. Luke hadn't pried, as Jess's mother undoubtedly would have done, but simply accepted Jess's need for "something", and allowed him the freedom to run.
Jess went into the bathroom, stripping off his t-shirt and shorts. Stepping into the shower, he turned on the faucet and winced as the icy-cold water hit his warm body. He let the liquid run over his shoulders, down his defined abs, trickle down his toned legs and into the drain at his feet.
He stepped out, grabbing a well-used towel from the rack by him and wiped of the excess water from his tanned skin. He glanced at himself in the mirror, averting his eyes from the thin scar on his chest.
He walked into his room, pulling on a pair of boxers as he climbed into bed. He pulled the comforter up to his chin, his eyes wide open. His thoughts jumped from topic to topic, but they all were about her.
When he finally fell asleep, it was with a smile on his lips.