Disclaimer: I'm not affiliated with "Gilmore Girls" in any way, and I don't own the characters.
Author's Note: This is a one-shot deal. Nothing more, nothing less. Well, just a lot of angst.
A Not So Casual Observance
He had lost track of time. Minutes swept into oblivion. These precious seconds would seem wasted to the ordinary onlooker. But not to him.
The late October air danced through the trees, the bare limbs crackling together like a skeletal symphony. Their parched leaves tumbled to the russet ground and dissolved into dust, mingling with the grass that had been paralyzed during the morning's frost. He shuffled his feet, relishing the delightful crunch of the bare blades as they crumbled under his weight. Leaning back against the unyielding bark of a tree, he shoved his hands further into the pockets of his coat, drawing it's warmth closer. He exhaled deeply, his breath forming an icy cloud that was soon whipped away by the threatening wind. And he waited.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
Five more minutes.
He shifted, trying to work the numbness from his toes. And in that moment, he almost questioned his sanity. Yes, he was crazy. Crazy for thinking… crazy for feeling…
The double doors of the dorm swung open, metal clanging against the brick walls of the ornate building. He jerked, as if he were falling out of a dream and into reality. But it wasn't. It was like being in the state between wakefulness and the first stages of sleep… when your eyelids surrender to the burden and your troubles evaporate. You feel weightless. But he was here.
And now, so was she.
The young woman paused for a moment on the concrete steps of the building, sliding her messenger bag over one shoulder, a handful of notebooks clutched under her arm. The long fingers of her free hand were wrapped possessively around a Styrofoam cup, and she took a sip of the liquid and swallowed. Sticking out her tongue in obvious distaste, she tossed the cup in a nearby trashcan, and hopped down the steps, skipping over the glassy, frozen surface of a puddle. She began to make her way briskly, purposely, across the deserted quad, her shoes with the tiny heels sending hollow clicks reverberating on the cobbled path.
As she moved across his line of vision, he turned with her, his gaze never leaving her slim, familiar figure. She hadn't changed… not really. The same classy sophistication of the girl he had once known all those years ago. The corners of her beige pea coat flapped in the swirling breeze, and she made one attempt to fasten the bottom button while continuing her pace. After a fruitless struggle, she gave up. A gust of bitter wind sent the leaves on the path balancing on their tips, performing a hypnotic ballet. The movement sighed and then was gone, but not before a lone leaf firmly wedged itself in her chocolate strands. She didn't seem to notice. Mother Nature answered this ignorance with another blast of frigid air, and the loose papers in her notebooks escaped from her precious hold, forming a tiny cyclone of white sheets. She tossed her bag onto a nearby bench and scrambled for the documents, alternately standing and stooping as she gather them into a bundle. Frustrated she sank against the bench, drawing one leg underneath her as she began to leaf through the papers, trying to sort some form of order into the mess. Her porcelain cheeks were flushed crimson, stung from the cold's frosty needles. The paleness of her skin contrasted sharply with the cobalt depths of her eyes, and she hastily brushed a wary lock of hair from them. Her delicate fingers, nails unpolished, deftly flipped through the papers as she began to slide them, one by one, back into the notebook.
He had been wrong before. She had changed.
She was even more stunning than he had remembered. Even after their span of time apart, the simplicity of her beauty still could take his breath away.
Damn.
He still felt it.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
He had made the long journey here, hoping to see her again. And hoping to finally close the door on the memory of what could have been. But seeing her… She may have changed, but he obviously hadn't. He was once again that resentful teenage boy, plagued by the oppressions of his parents and peers, dealing with rejection. And it wasn't ordinary rejection. It was rejection from her, which was a different type of rejection all together. It was the kind that actually caused him pain, a foreign sensation that broke through the cool exterior and settled in his gut. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to touch her. Simply to hold her hand. To make her laugh. He had fallen back then, and now he truly knew what it meant to fall all over again. He only wanted to tell her that…
God help him. She made him feel.
Unconsciously, almost reverently, he whispered her name and savored the taste as his lips formed the two syllables. She had completed the cumbersome task of sorting through her notes and was in the process of shoving the notebook into her bag when she felt it. He saw her slowly, gingerly lift her head, eyebrows furrowed. She couldn't have heard him. It had been merely a breath lost in the swift howls of the wind. She lifted a hand underneath the nape of her neck, as if she had felt the hairs prickling there. As if she knew, somehow, that she was being watched. Her eyes furtively scanned the quad, over bushes, between buildings, lingering on a cluster of trees. Seemingly satisfied, she nodded and began to gather her belongings. As she headed towards the Administration building, the structure's looming shadows growing against the overcast sky, there was a glimmer of movement in the corner of her peripheral vision. She whipped around, squinting against the wind.
And saw nothing.
Shivering, she hugged her bag closer to her body and jogged the rest of the way to the building. She pushed the door open and disappeared into the warmth of the lighted entrance way, the door closing solidly behind her.
And with that, it was over. Once again, he turned and left her behind. But he knew, just like the last time, she would be with him. Always.
To anyone else who had seen him, he was nothing more than a casual observer.
To her, he was a ghost from the past.
Well, please let me know what you think. Your thoughts are much appreciated, 'cause I'm new to this whole thing.