Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with Gilmore Girls or any of its
characters
Pairing: Rory and Tristan
Summary: Tristan and Rory look back on a love lost and a friendship severed only to wonder where they went wrong.
Feedback: Please read and review, it means more to me than anyone knows. I won't push too much for it, but one little comment can make my entire day!
Author's note: this one's a bit longer for you! Enjoy!
Tristan stood up and let out a sigh of frustration. He looked down at her with a slight shake of his head. " Forget it. I'm tired of waiting for you to figure it out."
With that, he walked away, leaving behind a bewildered and confused Rory. She contemplated running after him. He owed her an explanation, but she ultimately decided against it. She sat silently as the stars-hollow bus jerked to a halt in front of her. She climbed the stairs and took a seat by the window as the engine revved and the bus left the stop.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
Rory staggered into the halls of hell, barely noticing the curious glances thrown her way. She failed to realize that the stars-hollow bus stop was within earshot of Chilton, therefore the details of her conversation with Tristan had by now been spread through the entire student body.
Had she know this, she might not have stared at him so much during class.
***************************************************
Snap yourself out of it Rory! Enough is enough. Concentrate. Concentrate. Concen.
"Now, can someone please tell me the year that this took place?" Mrs. Landen asked.
Rory raised her hand to respond the question posed by her teacher. "1857." She answered.
"1957. Miss Gilmore, it would help if you were in the right century. Please pay attention, you'll appreciate it come next Wednesday." She scorned.
Rory nodded her head and again began furiously scribbling notes. As the period went on, her notes became more and more vague, until she was again focusing all of her concentration on the enigma before her.
The names and dates were merely mumbles and background noise as she felt her attention slipping. Tristan turned to look at the clock on the back wall of the room, inadvertently entrancing Rory with a glimpse of his profile.
Her pencil dropped from her hand as she mesmerized his features. Her gaze shifted down from his messy golden tendrils to his eyes.
His eyes. Damn they were amazing.
Those sparkling blue orbs, they told her what she needed to know. Not everything, but enough. Like yesterday. Yesterday, she saw pain, she saw fear, and she saw frustration. They let her see into his mind. Through one glance, she could decipher his every feeling. She could detect the playfulness in his tone during their banter, the fake way he talked to other girls. The pretend grin he flashed to the faculty. But there was one thing she never saw. What she failed to notice was the want.
The want that consumed his every moment, every thought.
Her stare moved down to his mouth as he bit his full, pale lip in thought.
In a lot of ways, he reminded her of herself, struggling to be free from the confines of society. Though they came from two different worlds, the prison was the same.
She saw something in him. Something more than the typical rich boy. Though he acted like one might expect, she never missed the smile he gave her. Not one of those fake smirks, but a true smile. A real smile. She saw the look of sincerity in his eyes. That's how she knew it was real.
This often led her to ask why he chose her. Out of everyone, why did she get to see the genuine Tristan DuGrey? Maybe, he saw an escape in her. Maybe, he, too, realized how similar they were. Maybe, he found comfort in someone who felt the same way he did. Or maybe not.
Either way, he's hiding in there somewhere, waiting to get out. An angry boy. A trapped boy. A boy waiting to break away from what was expected of him. He didn't want to live the way he did any more than she wanted to live the way she did. He wanted freedom to do the unexpected, to do what he wanted.
They were more alike than anyone would ever guess.
She watched his powerful jaw-line move as he chewed on the tip of his pencil, and she remembered the kiss. Sweet, innocent, meaningless.
Or was it?
How could it have been? Does one find themselves incessantly remembering a meaningless kiss? Recalling the sounds, the sights, the tastes?
Wow, the memories.
She could still sense the smell of his cologne: manly, but with a certain tenderness.
She could still taste the mint on his lips; it left her own tingly and swollen.
To this day, she could still remember how his voice sounded that night: so comforting, so smooth, and yet so gruff.
But most of all, she could still remember the feelings. So many feelings. The dominant feeling though, the one that plagued her mind, was how right it felt, how perfect.
No, it wasn't meaningless. It was anything but meaningless. Too bad he'd never feel what she did.
She watched as his muscular arms reach to pick up his books. How wonderful they would feel wrapped around her waist. How safe and comfor---
wait!
His books?! Had class gone by that quickly?
Sure enough, the bell rang moments later and everyone was making a move to the door. Shaken from her trance, Rory gathered her things. As she stood up from her desk, she heard a husky voice from behind her. In almost a whisper he spoke. "Still oblivious?"
He pushed past her quickly, allowing no time for a response.
***************************************************
Of course he'd known she was looking. He knew her too well to think that she wouldn't be. But what he didn't know was that she was looking with longing. With want.
The same want that he'd looked at her with so many times.
It's quite possible that even she, herself, hadn't know the want was there. But it was undeniably present. For a long while, neither would admit it, and until one of them finally realized it, both would remain forever lost in their daydreams.
Pairing: Rory and Tristan
Summary: Tristan and Rory look back on a love lost and a friendship severed only to wonder where they went wrong.
Feedback: Please read and review, it means more to me than anyone knows. I won't push too much for it, but one little comment can make my entire day!
Author's note: this one's a bit longer for you! Enjoy!
Tristan stood up and let out a sigh of frustration. He looked down at her with a slight shake of his head. " Forget it. I'm tired of waiting for you to figure it out."
With that, he walked away, leaving behind a bewildered and confused Rory. She contemplated running after him. He owed her an explanation, but she ultimately decided against it. She sat silently as the stars-hollow bus jerked to a halt in front of her. She climbed the stairs and took a seat by the window as the engine revved and the bus left the stop.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
Rory staggered into the halls of hell, barely noticing the curious glances thrown her way. She failed to realize that the stars-hollow bus stop was within earshot of Chilton, therefore the details of her conversation with Tristan had by now been spread through the entire student body.
Had she know this, she might not have stared at him so much during class.
***************************************************
Snap yourself out of it Rory! Enough is enough. Concentrate. Concentrate. Concen.
"Now, can someone please tell me the year that this took place?" Mrs. Landen asked.
Rory raised her hand to respond the question posed by her teacher. "1857." She answered.
"1957. Miss Gilmore, it would help if you were in the right century. Please pay attention, you'll appreciate it come next Wednesday." She scorned.
Rory nodded her head and again began furiously scribbling notes. As the period went on, her notes became more and more vague, until she was again focusing all of her concentration on the enigma before her.
The names and dates were merely mumbles and background noise as she felt her attention slipping. Tristan turned to look at the clock on the back wall of the room, inadvertently entrancing Rory with a glimpse of his profile.
Her pencil dropped from her hand as she mesmerized his features. Her gaze shifted down from his messy golden tendrils to his eyes.
His eyes. Damn they were amazing.
Those sparkling blue orbs, they told her what she needed to know. Not everything, but enough. Like yesterday. Yesterday, she saw pain, she saw fear, and she saw frustration. They let her see into his mind. Through one glance, she could decipher his every feeling. She could detect the playfulness in his tone during their banter, the fake way he talked to other girls. The pretend grin he flashed to the faculty. But there was one thing she never saw. What she failed to notice was the want.
The want that consumed his every moment, every thought.
Her stare moved down to his mouth as he bit his full, pale lip in thought.
In a lot of ways, he reminded her of herself, struggling to be free from the confines of society. Though they came from two different worlds, the prison was the same.
She saw something in him. Something more than the typical rich boy. Though he acted like one might expect, she never missed the smile he gave her. Not one of those fake smirks, but a true smile. A real smile. She saw the look of sincerity in his eyes. That's how she knew it was real.
This often led her to ask why he chose her. Out of everyone, why did she get to see the genuine Tristan DuGrey? Maybe, he saw an escape in her. Maybe, he, too, realized how similar they were. Maybe, he found comfort in someone who felt the same way he did. Or maybe not.
Either way, he's hiding in there somewhere, waiting to get out. An angry boy. A trapped boy. A boy waiting to break away from what was expected of him. He didn't want to live the way he did any more than she wanted to live the way she did. He wanted freedom to do the unexpected, to do what he wanted.
They were more alike than anyone would ever guess.
She watched his powerful jaw-line move as he chewed on the tip of his pencil, and she remembered the kiss. Sweet, innocent, meaningless.
Or was it?
How could it have been? Does one find themselves incessantly remembering a meaningless kiss? Recalling the sounds, the sights, the tastes?
Wow, the memories.
She could still sense the smell of his cologne: manly, but with a certain tenderness.
She could still taste the mint on his lips; it left her own tingly and swollen.
To this day, she could still remember how his voice sounded that night: so comforting, so smooth, and yet so gruff.
But most of all, she could still remember the feelings. So many feelings. The dominant feeling though, the one that plagued her mind, was how right it felt, how perfect.
No, it wasn't meaningless. It was anything but meaningless. Too bad he'd never feel what she did.
She watched as his muscular arms reach to pick up his books. How wonderful they would feel wrapped around her waist. How safe and comfor---
wait!
His books?! Had class gone by that quickly?
Sure enough, the bell rang moments later and everyone was making a move to the door. Shaken from her trance, Rory gathered her things. As she stood up from her desk, she heard a husky voice from behind her. In almost a whisper he spoke. "Still oblivious?"
He pushed past her quickly, allowing no time for a response.
***************************************************
Of course he'd known she was looking. He knew her too well to think that she wouldn't be. But what he didn't know was that she was looking with longing. With want.
The same want that he'd looked at her with so many times.
It's quite possible that even she, herself, hadn't know the want was there. But it was undeniably present. For a long while, neither would admit it, and until one of them finally realized it, both would remain forever lost in their daydreams.