Author's Note: I recently realized that my settings did not allow anonymous reviews, so I've changed that. I appreciate every single review I get, and I have nothing against anonymous reviewers... so, please, tell me what you think! To those that have reviewed, thank you! It means so much to me that you find my story worthy of the time you spend reviewing it... Again, 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 3
It was about a week after their last encounter. She had studiously avoided his gaze, and he hadn't displayed any initiative to talk to her. She saw Paris eyeing the two of them curiously, probably wondering why they had abruptly stopped their banter, and was only grateful that she hadn't bothered to ask. The two of them were on speaking terms now--Paris had eventually put the disastrous set up behind her, and they were on their way to being friends. Although, Rory smiled wryly, friends wouldn't be a good word to describe them. They'd moved on to a somewhat friendly rivalry that, while it occasionally escalated into something less than amiable, eventually brought them together because of their similar goals. There was a mutual respect between the two now, and they managed, most of the time, to put aside their differences and work together on the paper. They would never, in Paris's words, "go shopping together and paint each other's toenails," but they could work together.
There had been a week of silence--a week of hiding from everything that was threatening to surface--a week of exhausting acting as she desperately tried to be the same with everyone in Stars Hollow. And then, as if propelled by some invisible force, she had walked to the library. She felt instinctively that he would be there, and she decided that it was time to talk to him. She promised herself that she would tell him it had all been a mistake--that she hadn't meant it--that it was something they could never repeat again. She told herself firmly that she had a boyfriend, that she had responsibilities, that the whole thing was so crazy she didn't even know why she had to convince herself of all of that.
She saw him sitting in the corner, reading a book. He looked relaxed, comfortable, and she had a sudden urge to curl up next to him. She shook it off, and walked towards him.
He looked up when he heard quiet footsteps, and looked startled when he saw her standing in front of him.
She hesitated at his startled look, then took one more step towards him. "Hi," she said timidly.
"Hi," he said hesitantly. He didn't know what to expect from her, although he had a pretty good idea of what she was about to say. He decided to start it quickly so he could get it over with. He'd spent the past week in turmoil, waiting for her to come up to him and inform him that it'd been a mistake of some sort, waiting for her to forbid him to do it again. He'd avoided her as much as she'd avoided him, afraid of hearing those words that he knew were inevitable. "You didn't meet me last week."
She crouched down, avoiding his eyes. "I know. I was in a hurry."
All week? He was tempted to ask, but decided to let it go. He had, after all, avoided her, too.
"So let me guess why you're here."
She hadn't expected that, but allowed him to continue. "Okay."
"You're here…" he paused for a moment, looking at her. "to tell me that it was a mistake."
She was startled at his calm voice, but answered softly. "Yes."
"You're here to tell me that we shouldn't have done that."
Her voice became even softer. "Yes."
"You're here to tell me that we can't ever do that again." His voice became softer, to match hers. He forced her eyes to meet his.
She was startled at the deep blue of his eyes, at the hidden emotions that seemed to lurk beneath the surface. She didn't want to say it, but fought against every fiber of her being and answered, almost in a whisper. "Yes."
He found that he was leaning towards her. He didn't want to do it--didn't want to subject himself to another opportunity for her to reject him--but she didn't move back and he didn't stop. His voice became even quieter. "You're here to tell me that if I ever try, you won't let me."
Her voice was almost inaudible this time as she answered while leaning towards him. It was almost an unconscious move on her part, but at the same time she was acutely aware of their movements. "Yes," she answered him, knowing that they were simply delaying the inevitable. She didn't bother to tell herself to move away. The butterflies in her stomach had awakened again, and they seemed to be making their way through the rest of her body. She knew she wouldn't be able to move if she tried.
His lips were an inch away from hers. He knew now that she wouldn't move away from him. There had been plenty of time for her to do so, and she'd remained there, waiting. "You're here…" he moved even closer to her, his lips hovering above hers. "to tell me that if I kiss you now, you'll push me away."
"Yes," she whispered, knowing that it wasn't true--knowing that he knew it wasn't true. He closed the remaining distance between them, and she closed her eyes as she felt his lips on hers. She remembered their last kiss suddenly, and knew that this one was different. It was as soft, as gentle, as the last one, but they were both fully aware of what they were doing. She knew she would regret it later, but for now all she could do was hold on to him as she felt the sensations of his lips on hers. He moved to stand on her knees, mimicking her position, and his arms came around her waist, his fingers touching the bottom of her shirt. She lifted her arms to the nape of his neck, toying with his hair, focusing on the feeling of his hair under her fingers and the sensation of his lips touching hers. He ended the kiss, then kissed her again, several times, lightly. He rested his forehead against hers as they both drew in deep breaths. They opened their eyes at the same time, blue boring into blue. He grinned at her slightly, and she just looked at him.
"I want you to promise me," he looked at her again and grabbed the hand that she had let hang loose at her side. "that you won't run away this time." His voice was hoarse, almost pleading.
She looked back at him, unflinching. She would regret this later, she knew. But it was now, and she was living for the moment. "I promise."
He smiled at her then, almost tenderly, and kissed her again, lightly, then moved away. "The period's almost over. We should go."
"We should," she answered. And then reality set in. "Oh, god. We can't go out together."
He looked at her and sighed. This was when she would start thinking. "Sure we can. There's no one in the hall."
"You can't--" she looked at him suddenly, panicked. "You won't tell anyone, will you?"
"Of course not." He smiled at her, but it was a forced smile. "I have a girlfriend."
He was dating another girl now, a pretty redhead named Jamie. She was nice and bubbly and a lot like all the other girls he'd dated.
"And I have a boyfriend." Rory looked down at her hands and sat down as she realized what, exactly, she had just done. "Oh, god. What did we just do?"
"Rory," he walked back to her quickly and took her hand. "It's okay."
"No," she glanced at him, and he could see the beginnings of regret settling in her eyes. "It's not okay! Just because you think it's okay to cheat on your girlfriend doesn't mean I think it's okay to cheat on Dean. We have a nice thing going--not that I would expect you to understand that."
"Don't you do that," he glared at her suddenly.
"Do what?" she asked him, caught off guard by his sudden anger.
"Don't you start insulting me just because you don't know what to do about what just happened. I don't deserve that and you know it. You were here, too." He was suddenly and inexplicably angry at her. He wondered why--he'd expected this reaction, after all, had known that this would happen after reality had set in and Rory had realized what they'd done. But he'd gone ahead with it anyway.
She looked down at their hands, her small ones captured in his larger ones. "I know. I'm sorry."
He didn't let go. "You promised not to run away."
"I know." She raised her chin and looked at him. "I'm still here."
He was thanking whatever power had kept her there at that very moment. "Good. So I'm guessing you'll want to talk about this."
She looked away from him for a minute, then turned back. "I think we have to."
He looked at her, and came to a quick decision. "I want you to meet me in the courtyard today after school. And I want you to be there this time."
"Okay," she said quietly. It wasn't enough for him. He released her hand and brought his finger up to her chin, tipping it up and forcing her to look at him. "Okay?" he asked.
"Yeah," she answered him, her voice quiet but steady. "Okay."
"Good," he grinned in relief. He wasn't sure she'd be there, but suddenly wanted to trust her. He realized that she was waiting for him to say something--to do something--so he winked at her and got up. "I'll see you later."
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Author's note: At the risk of becoming annoying, I'd like to once again encourage you to review! Whatever your opinions are about this story, positive or negative, I want to know. Please?
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the story of Gilmore Girls. They belong to the WB and Amy Sherman-Palladino.
Reflections: Chapter 3
It was about a week after their last encounter. She had studiously avoided his gaze, and he hadn't displayed any initiative to talk to her. She saw Paris eyeing the two of them curiously, probably wondering why they had abruptly stopped their banter, and was only grateful that she hadn't bothered to ask. The two of them were on speaking terms now--Paris had eventually put the disastrous set up behind her, and they were on their way to being friends. Although, Rory smiled wryly, friends wouldn't be a good word to describe them. They'd moved on to a somewhat friendly rivalry that, while it occasionally escalated into something less than amiable, eventually brought them together because of their similar goals. There was a mutual respect between the two now, and they managed, most of the time, to put aside their differences and work together on the paper. They would never, in Paris's words, "go shopping together and paint each other's toenails," but they could work together.
There had been a week of silence--a week of hiding from everything that was threatening to surface--a week of exhausting acting as she desperately tried to be the same with everyone in Stars Hollow. And then, as if propelled by some invisible force, she had walked to the library. She felt instinctively that he would be there, and she decided that it was time to talk to him. She promised herself that she would tell him it had all been a mistake--that she hadn't meant it--that it was something they could never repeat again. She told herself firmly that she had a boyfriend, that she had responsibilities, that the whole thing was so crazy she didn't even know why she had to convince herself of all of that.
She saw him sitting in the corner, reading a book. He looked relaxed, comfortable, and she had a sudden urge to curl up next to him. She shook it off, and walked towards him.
He looked up when he heard quiet footsteps, and looked startled when he saw her standing in front of him.
She hesitated at his startled look, then took one more step towards him. "Hi," she said timidly.
"Hi," he said hesitantly. He didn't know what to expect from her, although he had a pretty good idea of what she was about to say. He decided to start it quickly so he could get it over with. He'd spent the past week in turmoil, waiting for her to come up to him and inform him that it'd been a mistake of some sort, waiting for her to forbid him to do it again. He'd avoided her as much as she'd avoided him, afraid of hearing those words that he knew were inevitable. "You didn't meet me last week."
She crouched down, avoiding his eyes. "I know. I was in a hurry."
All week? He was tempted to ask, but decided to let it go. He had, after all, avoided her, too.
"So let me guess why you're here."
She hadn't expected that, but allowed him to continue. "Okay."
"You're here…" he paused for a moment, looking at her. "to tell me that it was a mistake."
She was startled at his calm voice, but answered softly. "Yes."
"You're here to tell me that we shouldn't have done that."
Her voice became even softer. "Yes."
"You're here to tell me that we can't ever do that again." His voice became softer, to match hers. He forced her eyes to meet his.
She was startled at the deep blue of his eyes, at the hidden emotions that seemed to lurk beneath the surface. She didn't want to say it, but fought against every fiber of her being and answered, almost in a whisper. "Yes."
He found that he was leaning towards her. He didn't want to do it--didn't want to subject himself to another opportunity for her to reject him--but she didn't move back and he didn't stop. His voice became even quieter. "You're here to tell me that if I ever try, you won't let me."
Her voice was almost inaudible this time as she answered while leaning towards him. It was almost an unconscious move on her part, but at the same time she was acutely aware of their movements. "Yes," she answered him, knowing that they were simply delaying the inevitable. She didn't bother to tell herself to move away. The butterflies in her stomach had awakened again, and they seemed to be making their way through the rest of her body. She knew she wouldn't be able to move if she tried.
His lips were an inch away from hers. He knew now that she wouldn't move away from him. There had been plenty of time for her to do so, and she'd remained there, waiting. "You're here…" he moved even closer to her, his lips hovering above hers. "to tell me that if I kiss you now, you'll push me away."
"Yes," she whispered, knowing that it wasn't true--knowing that he knew it wasn't true. He closed the remaining distance between them, and she closed her eyes as she felt his lips on hers. She remembered their last kiss suddenly, and knew that this one was different. It was as soft, as gentle, as the last one, but they were both fully aware of what they were doing. She knew she would regret it later, but for now all she could do was hold on to him as she felt the sensations of his lips on hers. He moved to stand on her knees, mimicking her position, and his arms came around her waist, his fingers touching the bottom of her shirt. She lifted her arms to the nape of his neck, toying with his hair, focusing on the feeling of his hair under her fingers and the sensation of his lips touching hers. He ended the kiss, then kissed her again, several times, lightly. He rested his forehead against hers as they both drew in deep breaths. They opened their eyes at the same time, blue boring into blue. He grinned at her slightly, and she just looked at him.
"I want you to promise me," he looked at her again and grabbed the hand that she had let hang loose at her side. "that you won't run away this time." His voice was hoarse, almost pleading.
She looked back at him, unflinching. She would regret this later, she knew. But it was now, and she was living for the moment. "I promise."
He smiled at her then, almost tenderly, and kissed her again, lightly, then moved away. "The period's almost over. We should go."
"We should," she answered. And then reality set in. "Oh, god. We can't go out together."
He looked at her and sighed. This was when she would start thinking. "Sure we can. There's no one in the hall."
"You can't--" she looked at him suddenly, panicked. "You won't tell anyone, will you?"
"Of course not." He smiled at her, but it was a forced smile. "I have a girlfriend."
He was dating another girl now, a pretty redhead named Jamie. She was nice and bubbly and a lot like all the other girls he'd dated.
"And I have a boyfriend." Rory looked down at her hands and sat down as she realized what, exactly, she had just done. "Oh, god. What did we just do?"
"Rory," he walked back to her quickly and took her hand. "It's okay."
"No," she glanced at him, and he could see the beginnings of regret settling in her eyes. "It's not okay! Just because you think it's okay to cheat on your girlfriend doesn't mean I think it's okay to cheat on Dean. We have a nice thing going--not that I would expect you to understand that."
"Don't you do that," he glared at her suddenly.
"Do what?" she asked him, caught off guard by his sudden anger.
"Don't you start insulting me just because you don't know what to do about what just happened. I don't deserve that and you know it. You were here, too." He was suddenly and inexplicably angry at her. He wondered why--he'd expected this reaction, after all, had known that this would happen after reality had set in and Rory had realized what they'd done. But he'd gone ahead with it anyway.
She looked down at their hands, her small ones captured in his larger ones. "I know. I'm sorry."
He didn't let go. "You promised not to run away."
"I know." She raised her chin and looked at him. "I'm still here."
He was thanking whatever power had kept her there at that very moment. "Good. So I'm guessing you'll want to talk about this."
She looked away from him for a minute, then turned back. "I think we have to."
He looked at her, and came to a quick decision. "I want you to meet me in the courtyard today after school. And I want you to be there this time."
"Okay," she said quietly. It wasn't enough for him. He released her hand and brought his finger up to her chin, tipping it up and forcing her to look at him. "Okay?" he asked.
"Yeah," she answered him, her voice quiet but steady. "Okay."
"Good," he grinned in relief. He wasn't sure she'd be there, but suddenly wanted to trust her. He realized that she was waiting for him to say something--to do something--so he winked at her and got up. "I'll see you later."
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Author's note: At the risk of becoming annoying, I'd like to once again encourage you to review! Whatever your opinions are about this story, positive or negative, I want to know. Please?