Author's Note: I just wanted to thank all of you for reviewing! You guys are amazing and your reviews always make me smile. Thank you!
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the story of Gilmore Girls. They belong to the WB and Amy Sherman-Palladino.
Reflections: Chapter 2
Rory smiled wryly at her reflection as she thought about the next few days. She hadn't told anyone about what had happened--not even Lorelai. Her smiled waned as she thought of her mother, sitting in the living room, completely in the dark about a large part of her daughter's life. Rory had gone straight home that day, intent on telling Lorelai exactly what had happened and asking for advice, but Lorelai had been at the inn. And when she had come home, hours later, holding two cups of coffee and talking a mile a minute about something Luke had done, Rory couldn't bring herself to do it. She had hated herself at that moment, hated the way she had so easily forgotten about Dean and given in to the feelings that Tristan aroused in her. She'd been afraid of what her mother would think--of how her mother would immediately think of herself when she had been sixteen--and she couldn't tell her. So she had let her chatter on about Luke and the inn, smiling in appropriate places and pushing all thoughts to the back of her head. It was then that she had unconsciously begun building the invisible wall that would later separate them, make them distant from each other in some intangible way that Lorelai couldn't understand and Rory could only regret. That invisible wall was why, now, Lorelai was watching TV in the living room alone, and Rory had locked herself in her room. There hadn't been any arguments between the two of them--their lives had actually been very calm and they'd both agreed on almost everything--but there was an invisible boundary between the two of them now, something that neither mentioned but both felt, and it hurt them both deeply. Maybe it was because Rory had distanced herself from everyone to get away from the guilt; maybe it was partly because her mother, too, had so much going on in her life now that she wasn't as attentive as she could have been. Whatever the reasons, Rory knew it had started that afternoon, and she hated herself for not having the strength to say the words that would break it down.
Rory knew that Dean had felt the distance, too, as had Lane, and Luke, and everyone that she'd always been so close to. She wondered if they talked about it when she wasn't around, or whether that distance was so indefinable that they didn't know how to start. Dean was probably the one that was the most unaware of her change. On the surface, Rory had remained the perfect girlfriend--perhaps better, now that she was hiding something and focused on always doing exactly what he would expect. She'd always been somehow distant from him, she realized now--there was something that hadn't allowed her to completely give in to him as she was able to with Tristan.
She grimaced at the thought. She avoided comparing the two, if she could. They were two completely different people in her mind, and they occupied different positions in her heart. She'd realized finally that she did love Dean--now that she had Tristan, she could admit to herself that it was a calm, innocent love that she felt towards him, full of care and respect and concern but completely devoid of the passion that she shared with Tristan.
She'd never told Tristan that. They'd never really talked about their feelings--they didn't really need words to describe what they shared. And yet Rory wished she could be sure of what he felt for her. Their relationship was something that neither of them could really understand--they understood each other in a way no one ever had. They connected in a way that had stunned them both, given the completely different lifestyles they led, and they often needed only a glance or a smile to know what the other was thinking. And yet, somehow, there was a line that they didn't cross. They never talked about what they felt for each other--it was a topic neither could broach, not honestly, when they both had other people in their lives. Rory had Dean--and Tristan had the many girls in his life. They'd never decided to date exclusively--if she was honest with herself, they'd never actually decided to date--and both were afraid to broach that topic.
If it had been anyone else, Rory thought ruefully, she would have ended it a long time ago. But somewhere along the line, she'd fallen in love with him, and she couldn't pull herself away from him if she wanted to. He had come to mean too much to her--to mean enough for her to risk her comfortable life and her peace of mind in order to have those stolen moments with him. But she was never sure of what he felt. He was good at keeping his feelings hidden. He had never uttered a single word of love--and she, stopped by his seeming lack of emotions, had refrained from saying anything.
She knew that if he would tell her he loved her--if he told her that he wanted her for himself, that he didn't want to share her with anyone else--she would leave Dean. If he'd asked her to stop lying--to see him in the open and stop sneaking around, stealing moments in the back of the library and in his room on nights when Lorelai was working--she would do it. But he never asked, and she didn't stop.
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Author's Note: Please, please review. I want to know if you hate it, or love it, or if you think there's anything I'm doing wrong, or right... I appreciate every single review I get!
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the story of Gilmore Girls. They belong to the WB and Amy Sherman-Palladino.
Reflections: Chapter 2
Rory smiled wryly at her reflection as she thought about the next few days. She hadn't told anyone about what had happened--not even Lorelai. Her smiled waned as she thought of her mother, sitting in the living room, completely in the dark about a large part of her daughter's life. Rory had gone straight home that day, intent on telling Lorelai exactly what had happened and asking for advice, but Lorelai had been at the inn. And when she had come home, hours later, holding two cups of coffee and talking a mile a minute about something Luke had done, Rory couldn't bring herself to do it. She had hated herself at that moment, hated the way she had so easily forgotten about Dean and given in to the feelings that Tristan aroused in her. She'd been afraid of what her mother would think--of how her mother would immediately think of herself when she had been sixteen--and she couldn't tell her. So she had let her chatter on about Luke and the inn, smiling in appropriate places and pushing all thoughts to the back of her head. It was then that she had unconsciously begun building the invisible wall that would later separate them, make them distant from each other in some intangible way that Lorelai couldn't understand and Rory could only regret. That invisible wall was why, now, Lorelai was watching TV in the living room alone, and Rory had locked herself in her room. There hadn't been any arguments between the two of them--their lives had actually been very calm and they'd both agreed on almost everything--but there was an invisible boundary between the two of them now, something that neither mentioned but both felt, and it hurt them both deeply. Maybe it was because Rory had distanced herself from everyone to get away from the guilt; maybe it was partly because her mother, too, had so much going on in her life now that she wasn't as attentive as she could have been. Whatever the reasons, Rory knew it had started that afternoon, and she hated herself for not having the strength to say the words that would break it down.
Rory knew that Dean had felt the distance, too, as had Lane, and Luke, and everyone that she'd always been so close to. She wondered if they talked about it when she wasn't around, or whether that distance was so indefinable that they didn't know how to start. Dean was probably the one that was the most unaware of her change. On the surface, Rory had remained the perfect girlfriend--perhaps better, now that she was hiding something and focused on always doing exactly what he would expect. She'd always been somehow distant from him, she realized now--there was something that hadn't allowed her to completely give in to him as she was able to with Tristan.
She grimaced at the thought. She avoided comparing the two, if she could. They were two completely different people in her mind, and they occupied different positions in her heart. She'd realized finally that she did love Dean--now that she had Tristan, she could admit to herself that it was a calm, innocent love that she felt towards him, full of care and respect and concern but completely devoid of the passion that she shared with Tristan.
She'd never told Tristan that. They'd never really talked about their feelings--they didn't really need words to describe what they shared. And yet Rory wished she could be sure of what he felt for her. Their relationship was something that neither of them could really understand--they understood each other in a way no one ever had. They connected in a way that had stunned them both, given the completely different lifestyles they led, and they often needed only a glance or a smile to know what the other was thinking. And yet, somehow, there was a line that they didn't cross. They never talked about what they felt for each other--it was a topic neither could broach, not honestly, when they both had other people in their lives. Rory had Dean--and Tristan had the many girls in his life. They'd never decided to date exclusively--if she was honest with herself, they'd never actually decided to date--and both were afraid to broach that topic.
If it had been anyone else, Rory thought ruefully, she would have ended it a long time ago. But somewhere along the line, she'd fallen in love with him, and she couldn't pull herself away from him if she wanted to. He had come to mean too much to her--to mean enough for her to risk her comfortable life and her peace of mind in order to have those stolen moments with him. But she was never sure of what he felt. He was good at keeping his feelings hidden. He had never uttered a single word of love--and she, stopped by his seeming lack of emotions, had refrained from saying anything.
She knew that if he would tell her he loved her--if he told her that he wanted her for himself, that he didn't want to share her with anyone else--she would leave Dean. If he'd asked her to stop lying--to see him in the open and stop sneaking around, stealing moments in the back of the library and in his room on nights when Lorelai was working--she would do it. But he never asked, and she didn't stop.
**********************************
Author's Note: Please, please review. I want to know if you hate it, or love it, or if you think there's anything I'm doing wrong, or right... I appreciate every single review I get!