Title: Predictable
Author: secretstar
Rating: PG
Notes: Everything up to Happy Birthday, Baby has happened. No other major notes to speak of. This is in Jess's POV ... but that shouldn't be hard to figure out.
Song Credits: YellowCard's "Cigarettes" --- the inspiration behind this ficlet.
Dedication: To the fabulous E to the C (Elise!) because she's a loon and because she's so special.
Disclaimer: I don't own, so you don't sue. I think we have a good agreement going, don't you?
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Predictable
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Watching the days burning out like a cigarette,
Just a few drags to go.
Built me up and broke me down somehow.
One puff. Two. Three. Breathe.
It is on these desperately lonely nights that I think of you.
Sweet, innocent, predictable you. You who make me wish that I could be something more. You, who make me ponder about everything I thought I knew. You're causing me to re-evaluate all of my unpredictable actions and stopping me during those actions to think about the consequences. I've never done that before.
Never wanted to. Never needed to.
You've turned me soft. And I hate it.
Everything just seemed so clear to me, nothing left to know.
I'll love you right and I'll love you pure, right now
I can't stay here any longer. I can't stay in a place where there are festivals every other week and nonsensical celebrations are regularly held. This town is too damn cheery and sweet and sooner or later, I'm afraid that I might turn to actually liking it. But I don't want to turn into the moody flannel wearing guy who pours coffee for the regulars that come into his diner for their Sunday brunch. I don't want to turn into a miniature Luke Danes.
There's nothing here worth staying for.
Except you.
But in the back of my head I know we're never going to be together forever like you believe. You, like every other small town girl in this place, have the hidden dream of finding her prince charming and then running off to marry him. You and the prince will have about twelve perfect children and live happily ever after in his castle.
He will be Mister Prince Charming and you will be his Princess Rory.
And I will end up being one of the servants of your castle in this classic fairy tale.
And I would wait for you, if you would wait for me.
And I will wait for you, if you would wait for me.
If I were to tell you all of this (something I'm never going to do), you will give me a strange look and tell me that I was out of my mind. Then you will suggest a walk to the bridge, and later a movie night at your house. I will sigh and you will shake your head and then proceed to kiss me with your honey flavored lips. Then taking my hand, we will begin our walk. We will trace our steps around the town that you love so dearly and then end up at the diner about a half an hour later.
You are so predictable, but it is one of the qualities that I lov-like about you.
You are the town's Princess Rory.
But I cannot be your Prince Charming.
Besides, our beginning didn't start out with "Once upon a time...". It started out with me stealing your book and you calling it a felony. I shrugged off the light-hearted accusation, and the night had ended with your naming me Dodger.
The climax of our sorta fairy-tale was when you chose me over the town's beloved boy. Then the rest was predictable enough; we had our dates, our bookstore runs, our movie nights, and our ball was when I took you to the Stars Hollow Prom.
I don't know what our ending will be like though.
But I imagine it will be when we say our good-byes the day that you leave for Yale (assuming I haven't disappeared by then). You will look at me with your red rimmed eyes and whisper good-bye and promise to call me everyday. Then you will grab me hard and hide your face at the crook of my neck as I bury my face into your soft brown hair. Lorelai will then clear her throat, and you will step away from me and run to the car. I, and the rest of Stars Hollow, will then watch you and Lorelai pull away from the driveway and wave as you drive farther away.
After that, I will go home, blast my slanderous music, and attempt to fall asleep.
The phone will ring. And it will be you, calling me from the car.
Intoxicated the edge is serrated,
So easily torn from the core, I blushed the first time,
But you blushed the last time my eyes in your mind
One puff. Two. Three. Breathe.
But I can't keep waiting around for you, pretending everything will be okay. Deluding myself into thinking that we will have our fairy-tale ending and live happily ever after with me as an accomplished something and you as a Pulitzer prize winner. The real world doesn't work like that, because not everything is glazed with sugar and filled with sweet jelly.
I can't keep waiting around here as you venture into a collegiate life. I want to live too. So I shouldn't stay here any longer. If I do, then I might end up staying for good.
The phone rings its shrill alarm, interrupting my thoughts.
Groaning, I extinguish my cigarette and turn to pick it up. "Hello."
"Hi Dodger." It is you. Sweet, predictable you.
I breathe out a sigh and smile unconsciously. Hi Princess Rory, I say to myself. "Hey," I say to you.
A warm feeling overcomes me while I listen to you ramble on about something that makes absolutely no sense. And like a fool that I have become, I think it might be love.
Maybe staying might not be so bad.
I long for your love evermore...
You built me up and you broke me down this time.
End of story.
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[loved it (ha!), hate it, what did you think? I'd love feedback so if you have the time, then please leave me a nice little message, won't you? e-mail here if needed: hardertobreathe@starmail.com --- thanks for reading!]
Author: secretstar
Rating: PG
Notes: Everything up to Happy Birthday, Baby has happened. No other major notes to speak of. This is in Jess's POV ... but that shouldn't be hard to figure out.
Song Credits: YellowCard's "Cigarettes" --- the inspiration behind this ficlet.
Dedication: To the fabulous E to the C (Elise!) because she's a loon and because she's so special.
Disclaimer: I don't own, so you don't sue. I think we have a good agreement going, don't you?
----------------------------------------
Predictable
----------------------------------------
Watching the days burning out like a cigarette,
Just a few drags to go.
Built me up and broke me down somehow.
One puff. Two. Three. Breathe.
It is on these desperately lonely nights that I think of you.
Sweet, innocent, predictable you. You who make me wish that I could be something more. You, who make me ponder about everything I thought I knew. You're causing me to re-evaluate all of my unpredictable actions and stopping me during those actions to think about the consequences. I've never done that before.
Never wanted to. Never needed to.
You've turned me soft. And I hate it.
Everything just seemed so clear to me, nothing left to know.
I'll love you right and I'll love you pure, right now
I can't stay here any longer. I can't stay in a place where there are festivals every other week and nonsensical celebrations are regularly held. This town is too damn cheery and sweet and sooner or later, I'm afraid that I might turn to actually liking it. But I don't want to turn into the moody flannel wearing guy who pours coffee for the regulars that come into his diner for their Sunday brunch. I don't want to turn into a miniature Luke Danes.
There's nothing here worth staying for.
Except you.
But in the back of my head I know we're never going to be together forever like you believe. You, like every other small town girl in this place, have the hidden dream of finding her prince charming and then running off to marry him. You and the prince will have about twelve perfect children and live happily ever after in his castle.
He will be Mister Prince Charming and you will be his Princess Rory.
And I will end up being one of the servants of your castle in this classic fairy tale.
And I would wait for you, if you would wait for me.
And I will wait for you, if you would wait for me.
If I were to tell you all of this (something I'm never going to do), you will give me a strange look and tell me that I was out of my mind. Then you will suggest a walk to the bridge, and later a movie night at your house. I will sigh and you will shake your head and then proceed to kiss me with your honey flavored lips. Then taking my hand, we will begin our walk. We will trace our steps around the town that you love so dearly and then end up at the diner about a half an hour later.
You are so predictable, but it is one of the qualities that I lov-like about you.
You are the town's Princess Rory.
But I cannot be your Prince Charming.
Besides, our beginning didn't start out with "Once upon a time...". It started out with me stealing your book and you calling it a felony. I shrugged off the light-hearted accusation, and the night had ended with your naming me Dodger.
The climax of our sorta fairy-tale was when you chose me over the town's beloved boy. Then the rest was predictable enough; we had our dates, our bookstore runs, our movie nights, and our ball was when I took you to the Stars Hollow Prom.
I don't know what our ending will be like though.
But I imagine it will be when we say our good-byes the day that you leave for Yale (assuming I haven't disappeared by then). You will look at me with your red rimmed eyes and whisper good-bye and promise to call me everyday. Then you will grab me hard and hide your face at the crook of my neck as I bury my face into your soft brown hair. Lorelai will then clear her throat, and you will step away from me and run to the car. I, and the rest of Stars Hollow, will then watch you and Lorelai pull away from the driveway and wave as you drive farther away.
After that, I will go home, blast my slanderous music, and attempt to fall asleep.
The phone will ring. And it will be you, calling me from the car.
Intoxicated the edge is serrated,
So easily torn from the core, I blushed the first time,
But you blushed the last time my eyes in your mind
One puff. Two. Three. Breathe.
But I can't keep waiting around for you, pretending everything will be okay. Deluding myself into thinking that we will have our fairy-tale ending and live happily ever after with me as an accomplished something and you as a Pulitzer prize winner. The real world doesn't work like that, because not everything is glazed with sugar and filled with sweet jelly.
I can't keep waiting around here as you venture into a collegiate life. I want to live too. So I shouldn't stay here any longer. If I do, then I might end up staying for good.
The phone rings its shrill alarm, interrupting my thoughts.
Groaning, I extinguish my cigarette and turn to pick it up. "Hello."
"Hi Dodger." It is you. Sweet, predictable you.
I breathe out a sigh and smile unconsciously. Hi Princess Rory, I say to myself. "Hey," I say to you.
A warm feeling overcomes me while I listen to you ramble on about something that makes absolutely no sense. And like a fool that I have become, I think it might be love.
Maybe staying might not be so bad.
I long for your love evermore...
You built me up and you broke me down this time.
End of story.
----------------------------------------
[loved it (ha!), hate it, what did you think? I'd love feedback so if you have the time, then please leave me a nice little message, won't you? e-mail here if needed: hardertobreathe@starmail.com --- thanks for reading!]