Marriage. Who would want to be married to the same person for the rest of their life, anyhow? Rory silently asked herself, scoffing. Of course, if you meet that one particular person who seems to make your life better in every aspect, it could be a very fulfilling act.

Sighing, Rory sipped her coffee; a sound that often echoed throughout the large, empty kitchen. I'm so pathetic. Sitting at home on a Friday night, reminissing about the past. Go out, she willed herself, do something.

But she remained stationed in her cushioned floral chair, staring at the clock that seemed to be ticking backwards rather than forwards.

The bitter thoughts of a senile, twenty-eight year old.

If only her mother could see her now.

* * * * *

Rory sat in the back of the library, mulling over a large book, reading a passage that was assigned from her class. Her eyes were strained from the dull light cast from a small lamp at the far end of the table and she could feel a stinging sensation at the back of them. Her hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail and she was wearing her comfy Paul Frank pyjamas.

It was raining. Again.

She could hear the echoing of the pitter-patter off the roof and she had grown accustomed to hearing it, as she had buried herself in the library every free moment she could spare. She was sluggishly getting used to the feeling of wet socks and chilled skin.

The light flickered for a moment as someone passed by and sat themselves across from her; she ignored whoever it was and continued to read, wanting to get back to her dorm room sometime before midnight. She glanced at her watch, and the digital numbers stared back at her, as though mocking her as the seconds ticked by faster than she would have liked; 9:38 PM.

"Not even a hello?" A deep voice asked her comically, and Rory's head snapped up in surprise, her highlighter paused over the page.

"I don't have time for a hello," she replied, distracted by that damn smirk that was slowly creeping over his lips.

"Not even for me?"

"Especially not for you," she replied snidely before returning to the words that seemed to have grown smaller since the last time she looked.

"I'm going to ignore that comment," he replied, taking the book from her grasp to recieve her undivided attention.

Glaring at him, she reached for it, but he held it just beyond her fingertips. "Tristan, give it back."

"Not until you agree to go out with me. Just once, and I promise, if you don't have a good time, I'll never bother you again." His eyes pleaded with her, and she hesitated.

"One date?"

"Just one, but I can't promise you that you won't fall in love with me."

Rory rolled her eyes. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Where, Yale? I go here." His smirk grew more dominant.

"Well I knew that, I'm not incompetant. I meant in the library. Where people study, and actually open a book. I didn't think you knew what a library was."

"Ouch, Mary, your words hurt."

"Good." Was her reply as she grabbed desperately at the book he was clutching out of her grasp. Frusteration was evident on her fatigued face as she pleaded. "Please, Tristan, I'd like to get a decent nights sleep tonight. I have a killer test tomorrow and if I fail, it is now on your head."

Tristan wiggled the book in front of her. "You know the price."

"Fine! One date, that's it." This time when she reached for the book, he gave it willingly.

"You won't regret it Mary, I promise."

As he sauntered towards the exit, the call of 'My name is Rory!' echoed through the empty library.

* * * * *

Dear Rory,

I will never stop writing to you. Please don't give up on me, if you would just let me explain. . . You don't know what happened, I didn't do anything wrong, and I would never do anything to hurt you intentionally. . .

* * * * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

Please review! I'LL LOVE YOU :)