A.N: Sorry for the long wait- I've been distracted by Hayden. [dreamy
sigh] Anyways, this will be my last update in a while; I'll be off on holiday
from end of May until mid-June so I won't be able to update. You can expect the
next chapter around mid-June. :)
* * * * *
It Had To
Be You
by inmyeyes
05 : And We Meet Again...
He felt that
distinct sensation of being watched but it wasn't a feeling that he was
unaccustomed to. Something in his gut told him it was a woman- when is it ever
not a woman, he mused- but that prick of heightened awareness that hit
him made him sit up and take notice.
The music tapered off as his fingers stilled and he slowly opened his eyes, his gaze immediately drawn to the small, feminine figure leaning against the doorframe. He had to smile when he noticed her appreciative scrutiny of him and withheld his urge to chuckle. Instead, he examined the woman closely as something at the back of mind informed him that he knew her or, at least, had seen her before.
She was clad in a black dress that screamed of simple elegance, her rich brown hair hung in loose waves and her eyes-
Tristan's heart hammered against his ribcage when those blue eyes -as clear as the sky on a summer day- met his. He swallowed thickly as he ran his eyes over her; taking in her full appearance.
Rory Gilmore.
The first word that popped in his mind was beautiful and he inwardly groaned. Time had not diminished his attraction to her; if anything, it was now tenfold. And seeing the slight flush in her cheeks and that sparkle in her eyes did nothing to alleviate it.
Taking one last deep breath, he finally allowed a smile to shine through, completely aware that it was probably way too bright. He was also conscious of the fact that he couldn't quite hide the interest in his eyes.
"Rory Gilmore," he exclaimed, his voice resonating in the room. "It's been a long time." The moment the words left his mouth, he mentally slapped himself for stating the obvious. But then she returned his smile and all else was forgotten.
"Indeed it has been, Tristan," she remarked, her heels clicking against the floor as she moved further into the room.
He couldn't help but watch her; her shapely calves, the way the hem of her dress skimmed her knees with every step, the slightly swaying hips… Tristan bit back a groan. He would not do anything stupid, he told himself sharply. Like maybe acting on his attraction for her.
Next thing he knew, she was sitting down next to him on the piano bench, her arm brushing against his. The scent of vanilla assailed his senses and his resolve melted away. If he didn't feel as though he was swimming against a strong current with no hope of making it to shore, he would laughed at his foolishness.
He was just about to mutter some kind of pleasantry and initiate some small talk when she spoke first. "This is just déjà vu," she commented, sending a somewhat shy smile his way.
He chuckled lightly, surprised that she had brought it up. "No, no," he disagreed, shaking his head. His smile widened and there was no mistaking the look of heat in his eyes. "Not quite déjà vu yet."
Rory laughed, and the sound sent Tristan reeling back in time to his teenage years. "Not yet?" she teased, nudging his shoulder.
"Not yet," he repeated, grinning unabashedly.
Her fingers tinkered with the keys, discordant notes filling the room. As abruptly as she began, she stopped. She turned her head to look at him, her eyes boring into his. "How have you been?"
One corner of his lips twisted up in a half-smile. "Do you want the polite answer or the honest one?"
"Is there a difference?" she queried. She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "Answer it whichever way you like."
"Sometimes good, sometimes bad," he replied, smiling slightly.
"Which answer was that?"
"Which one do you think?" Their eyes held for a moment before he cleared his throat and drew his gaze away. "How have you been?"
She lightly hit a key again. "Sometimes good, sometimes bad," she repeated his answer, her laugh matching his. "Where are you living now?"
"New York, I'm working at Chase & Heyer."
Her lips curled into a smile. "I wouldn't have pegged you as the architect kind."
"Well, things have changed since we last met."
Rory looked straight at him and he had the disconcerting feeling that she could see right into him. "Yeah, things have changed," she said softly.
For just a second, the shield that she had been holding up fell away and Tristan saw a glimpse of melancholia in her eyes. She dragged her gaze away and when their eyes met again, the expression was replaced with a more playful look.
"So, are you married? Gotten your 2.4 children yet?"
"Hardly," Tristan scoffed, his tone dry.
Rory shrugged. "Well, I thought that with all the women who are foolish enough to throw themselves at you, you would have at least found one tolerable enough."
"Is that cynicism I hear, coming from Rory Gilmore?" he asked incredulously. Before she could answer, he went on, "Just because women may throw themselves at me, as you so eloquently put it, doesn't mean that I'd jump into marriage. And," he added, just as Rory was about to retort, "if and when I do marry, I'd hope that she'd be more than just tolerable."
Rory focused her eyes on the piano keys, too ashamed to meet his eyes. She knew that she had gone too far with her comment and she knew that it was unwarranted but being near him always brought up the aggressive side of her and this time was no different.
"Tristan," she began tentatively, biting her lip in nervousness. "I-"
He just shook his head and stood up. "You know, Rory, it seems like despite the contrary, things haven't really changed." He sent her a look of disappointment as he tried hard to seem unaffected. "You still see me as that 16 year-old Tristan DuGrey who was a player and harassed you at school."
With that, he strode to the door and only stopped to say to her, "It was nice seeing you again, Rory." His tone was cold and reeked of practised civility.
Rory just closed her eyes and sighed.
* * * * *
"What's wrong with you?" Natalie asked as she leaned back on the soft pillows on her brother's bed. "You've been frowning ever since we left the party."
"It's nothing," Tristan said, brushing off her concern. He disappeared into his bathroom and emerged seconds later in a pair of sweat pants.
"You're angry," Natalie commented as she noticed the set of his jaw. "What happened?"
"Do you ever mind your own business?" Tristan asked, rolling his eyes.
"You are my business. Who else can I harass if not my own brother?" she asked, her grin cheeky. She watched him as he sat down at his desk and brought out his sketchbook. A moment later, her expression turned serious. "Is this about Rory Gilmore?"
"No," was his terse answer but the way his shoulders tensed at the mention of the name told Natalie otherwise.
"You saw her at the party, didn't you?"
"Natalie," he warned. "Stop."
Natalie didn't heed his words. "I thought that you'd be glad to see her. More than glad."
Tristan sighed, hating how persistent she could be. "Things are complicated between the two of us."
"How complicated?"
He turned to face her, his expression unyielding. "Natalie."
She bit back the hundreds of questions that were running through her mind, knowing better than to push Tristan. She got off his bed and smiled. "I'm gonna get some sleep."
Tristan watched her departing figure, hating his harshness to her. "Nat?" She spun on her heel and waited for him to say something. "Good night."
Natalie smiled widely and bounded back into the room, placing a loud kiss on his cheek. "Good night, Tristan."
When her footsteps finally faded away and he heard the click of her bedroom door closing, he let out a loud sigh and leaned back on his chair. Wearily, he ran his hand over his face, stopping to rub his temples. He had a pounding headache from all the contemplation that he had been doing ever since he had left Rory in that room.
God, how she vexed him so! She knew just the right buttons to push and the words to say to push him over the edge and, he admitted, he had that same ability when it came to her. She was exasperating, infuriating… and utterly beautiful.
Leaning forward, Tristan hit his head against his mahogany desk once, enjoying the loud thump that reverberated in the empty room. He rested his head against the smooth wood, closed his eyes and was rewarded with the memory of how she had looked like.
Their meeting did not go the way he wanted it to. Granted, he didn't have idyllic fantasies of her proclaiming her long-held love for him nor did he think that they would fall into each other's arms but he had hoped for a measure of camaraderie. He had hoped that it would have been more light-hearted and more… promising. Yes, he decided, promising was a good word to encapsulate what he had hoped for- promise for the beginning of a friendship. And he had fervently hoped that she no longer viewed him the way she did 10 years ago.
Apparently, he had hoped too much. And apparently, he had underestimated the power of his attraction to her.
He felt like the 16 year-old he had been; not as confident as he seemed, ridden with the nerves that attacked him every time he was near her, and wishing that the one thing, the one person that he desperately wanted would not elude him so.
It was no surprise to him that it was Rory who brought back such feelings.
* * * * *
Rory shut the front door behind her, leaned her head against it and sighed.
"How was the party?"
Lorelai's voice startled her out of her reverie. Rory groaned and leaned more heavily against the door. "I met Tristan."
Lorelai took a sip of her coffee, her brows furrowed in confusion. "Tristan? Should I know this name? Give me a clue."
"A clue?" Rory's smile was wry. "Mary."
Lorelai snapped her fingers as recognition dawned on her. "Oh, you mean Bible Boy Tristan." She motioned in the direction of the living room, asking Rory to follow. When they were comfortably situated, Lorelai leaned forward eagerly, wanting to know all the details. "So, refresh my memory. Tell me about Bible Boy."
"Cliff-notes version: he called me Mary, he was a pest, we kissed-"
"You kissed?" Lorelai sputtered.
"-we became friends-"
"Y'know, normally after kissing, people become more than friends."
"-I set him up Paris, it backfired. Then came the PJ Harvey incident and the play in junior year. Then Tristan went bye bye and was shipped to military school."
Lorelai's eyes gleamed. "When did you kiss him?"
"Party."
"Why didn't you share this little tid-bit?" Lorelai demanded. "I'd think that kissing the spawn of Satan would have made front-page news in the Gilmore household."
"Forgot." Rory felt weary all of a sudden and remembered that she was actually still angry at her mother. Well, somewhat angry. Sometimes, it was too easy to give in to the urge to pretend that everything was all right. She stood up, smoothing down her dress and giving Lorelai a quick apologetic smile. "I need sleep. I'll tell you about tomorrow." She saw the uncertain look on Lorelai's face and felt guilt rack through her. She couldn't help but add, "I promise."
Lorelai smiled. "Okay, but you mustn't forget to tell me every single tiny detail."
"I'll try."
"Good," Lorelai nodded. "I look forward to it."
Rory had to laugh at the expectant look on her mother's face.
But the moment she was alone in her bedroom, all good cheer left her as she recalled what had happened with Tristan.
She hadn't meant what she had said, of course; it had just come out. She didn't even know why she brought up the subject of marriage, especially with him. And she knew that her words were hurtful. That wounded look in his eyes… she couldn't forget that.
She was very much attracted to Tristan, that she was certain. The nervous pattering of her heart, the clammy palms and her awareness of his every breath, every move were sure signs. But, she told herself, it wasn't anything more than hormones. It was only hormones mingled with the surprise of seeing him again after so long.
Or so, she hoped.
* * * * *
Years of being dragged to social events and numerous parties did nothing to soften his feelings towards wearing a tie- Tristan still hated those long pieces of cloth. Instead of getting used to the feel of it –it felt more like having a noose around his throat, he scoffed- he found his discomfort increasing. But years of discipline and lectures on proper dress and behaviour made him restrain the urge to yank the offending item away and stomp on the silk material with his Prada shoes.
'DuGreys must always behave in a proper manner,' he repeated the mantra that his parents had imparted to him, rolling his eyes at how highly they valued keeping up appearances.
Something about being in his parent's company, and knowing that he was surely going to be paraded around as an eligible bachelor to whatever female relatives his father's associate, had made his usually cool demeanour slip.
As head architect of Chase & Heyer, Tristan wore a suit to work every day and took extra care whenever he was meeting with a prospective client. He was no stranger to more formal dress but he was always rankled whenever he was forced to dress like so while out with his parents.
He did not care for the approving looks they sent his way whenever they deemed his attire appropriate. He did not enjoy feeling as though he was 12 again and needed to be told what to wear. He abhorred that suffocating sensation that swallowed him when he was with them and had to play the part of the filial son.
No, he reasoned, it wasn't the tie that was the problem. It was his parents.
He bit back a frustrated sigh, choosing instead to shine a bright smile Natalie's way. When he saw her pinched expression fade slightly, he felt his own tension ebb away.
At least he had Natalie with him.
* * * * *
"You know, Mom, I would have thought that by this time, you'd be used to these dinners," Rory called out from the living room.
She distinctly heard a snort before her mother's reply sounded, "I don't think that anyone can ever get used to a thorn in their side."
Rory rolled her eyes slightly, not surprised by Lorelai's vehement answer. She reached for on old copy of In Style magazine that lay on the coffee table and thumbed through it absentmindedly, her thoughts dwelling on her conversation with Lorelai earlier that afternoon.
As she had promised, she had divulged the details of meeting Tristan again, conveniently omitting a few pertinent facts- the lust that ran through her body, her unkind words and the bad parting between them. In short, she gave Lorelai a glossed-over version of the real incident, only citing the fact that she had been surprised- and she made sure to mention that it was a pleasant one- and that they had talked for a short while.
If Lorelai knew that not all had been revealed, she didn't show it. And indeed, Lorelai was more concerned and pleased about the slow rebuilding of that trust between them that she held so dear and had taken for granted. She was relieved to included in Rory's life again, albeit in a small way. She would take whatever she could get, she reasoned.
Still, Lorelai knew that some explanation had to be given, that they would have to talk about it and sort through it before they could really begin to get things back to normal again. But for the moment, she was content with all the baby steps that they were carefully taking.
Rory shook her head lightly, trying to dispel her worrisome thoughts about the state of their relationship. 'Focus on the present,' she said to herself. The burden of the resentment and bitterness that had built up after finding out about her parent's hasty marriage and subsequent divorce had weighed heavily on her mind. She was tired of carrying all that anger around so although forgiving Lorelai was still a stretch for her, she was resolved to try and lessen the tension between them- if only for her own sanity.
The thud of footsteps on the stairs brought her back to reality. Her head snapped up and she saw Lorelai standing at the base of the staircase, a martyred expression on her face.
"I'm ready to endure the unjust and cruel Gilmore torture," she proclaimed.
Rory snickered as she got up and adjusted her skirt so that its folds fell just right. "You're always so dramatic," she commented as the pair made their way out of the house.
"Well," Lorelai countered, "these dinners are always boring."
* * * * *
"Rory, how's life at the New York Times?" Richard asked, his gaze interested.
Inwardly, Rory blanched as she realized that she hadn't thought of work in two days. 'That's a record for me,' she mused. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she was enjoying being free from the hustle and bustle of being a reporter. She had been so caught up in her job that free time became a luxury that she just didn't have, or need.
The smile that upturned her rosy lips made Richard smile in satisfaction. "So, I take it things are going well?"
Rory focused on her grandfather's pleased expression and felt a tingle of accomplishment run through her at his obvious pride in her achievements. "It's going exceedingly well, Grandpa."
Richard nodded his head in acceptance, his smile broadening. "Good, good."
Emily took advantage of the lull in the conversation to switch to, in her opinion, a more interesting topic. "So, Rory," she began, a smile creeping upon her elegant features, "Is there someone special in your life?"
Rory held back a groan; she had been certain that such a question was sure to come up and it wasn't a question that she liked answering. "Grandma-"
From her perch at the edge of the hard, uncomfortable chair, Lorelai observed the shifting emotions that played across her daughter's face and noticed Rory's clenched hands on her lap. Knowing how it felt to be under fire from Emily' relentless questions and thorough scrutiny, Lorelai jumped in, "Mom, it's nearly 7.30. Shouldn't we be having dinner already?"
As Emily turned to give Lorelai a dissenting look for interrupting at such an inopportune time, Rory shot her mother a grateful smile to which Lorelai gave an imperceptible nod in return.
"Actually," the sound of Richard's voice got the attention of the three women in the room, "we're waiting for some guests. One of my business associates is joining us for dinner."
"Business associates?" Lorelai asked, arching a brow in suspicion.
"Yes, Lorelai," Richard answered with a smile, his pointed look telling her that he saw the suspicion in her eyes. "We've been doing business with their company for a long time now."
Emily nodded her agreement. "The DuGreys are good people." The sound of choking made her turn her head; she saw Rory hastily set down her glass of soda and reach for a tissue.
"Sorry," Rory sputtered, her face flushed, "I drank a little too fast." She ignored the smirk that she knew Lorelai was sending her way. She was saved from further embarrassment with a maid entered the sitting room.
"M'am, the DuGreys are here."
Emily got up gracefully, turning on her 'hostess' smile. "Splendid. Please show them in, Marie."
As the family of four entered the room, Emily and Richard rose to receive their guests as Rory quickly averted her eyes and focused instead of her fingers.
"Rory!"
The cheerful voice made her look up and she felt a smile seep through when she recognized the girl who was standing in front of her with a big grin.
"Natalie, it's good to see you again." A second later, the pieces of the puzzle fit in her mind. She threw a contemplative glance at the girl and raised her brow in question. "Natalie DuGrey, I presume?"
"You presume right."
"A detail that you forgot to mention to me last night," Rory remarked.
Natalie waved her hand in the air dismissively. "I forgot."
The mischievous grin on the girl's pretty features told Rory otherwise.
"Hi, I'm Lorelai, Rory's mother," came the voice form behind Rory.
Natalie's smile remained bright, making Rory wonder if anything ever got to her. "Natalie DuGrey, pleasure to meet you." Her eyes flitted between the two women. "You two look more like sisters," she commented.
Lorelai grinned. "That's what you get when you have a kid at 16," she joked.
Natalie's eyes widened. "You-"
"Hello, Rory."
Rory's gaze went to the figure behind Natalie and came to rest on the pair of blue eyes that had had made her breath catch the night before. "Tristan," she smiled genuinely, grateful that she had been granted the chance to at least apologize to him. "I didn't think that we'd meet again so soon." She saw something flicker in his eyes but it was gone too fast for her to discern what it had been.
"Neither did I," he answered, his eyes still on hers.
* * * * *
A.N: Another cliff-hangery end to a chapter. Not intentional, I swear, but I didn't want this to get too long. So... I'm sorry but you're gonna have to wait. :)
