*Disclaimer: I don't own the series Gilmore Girls or the characters. All I
own is my imagination and the plot.
*A/N: Hey!!! :-) I probably should apologize for taking so long, but I've already let you know that my updates will be weekly from now on. But I still feel like I should apologize, cause I really do wanna update every day, but writing chapters takes time (even crappy ones like this one!) and I have two stories to update instead of one so......hope people are still reading. :-)
*~*~*:-)*~*~*Bye, smile :-)
Tristan was sitting in the living room, with his back against the expensive leather of his parents' couch, staring at the clock, with a bottle of his father's whisky in his hand. He looked at the dark liquid in the bottle. Some fancy brand imported from Ireland or something. Nothing but the best for Alexander DuGrey. Tristan shifted his gaze back to the clock as he took another sip out of the half empty bottle. Minutes seemed hours and hours seemed ages. For every second that ticked away, his mind processed a million thoughts and images. Of his Grandpa mostly. He could even picture him lying in his coffin. In a designer suit of course, his father wouldn't have it any other way. Even the dead had to look good. Tristan gritted his teeth as he remembered his parents' message on the machine this afternoon. He put the cool bottle against his head and closed his eyes.
*~*~*Flashback*~*~*
As soon as Tristan got home, he dropped his keys on the dresser and made his way to the kitchen. It was the same routine every day. When he entered the kitchen a warm smile caressed his features, causing the wrinkles in his forehead to disappear. Paola, his nanny, was standing by the sink, washing tomatoes. She was a sweet lady in her fifties with a Spanish background. She had beautiful light brown skin and hardly any wrinkles, except when she would get worried. He remembered memorizing every curve and line of her face when she would read to him when he was little. To sooth him in a way, cause his parents weren't there to read to him and kiss him goodnight.
''Hey Paola,'' he greeted.
Paola looked up and he was greeted by two cheerful brown eyes, life shining brightly in them.
''Hola cariño,'' she said, as she quickly wiped her hands and gave him a quick peck on his cheek.
''How was school ?''
Tristan shrugged as he sat down at the bar. ''The usual.'' He watched her as she skillfully cut the tomatoes at a rapid speed. When he was little, he used to be afraid that one day she would cut herself, but luckily she never did.
''Any good grades ?''
''No, bad ones,'' Tristan answered truthfully.
Paola put down her knife and looked up at him, concerned.
''Don't worry, this girl is coming over to tutor me.''
Paola nodded and started to display the pieces of tomato on the salad, she had prepared earlier.
''What's this girls name ?''
''Rory,'' Tristan answered quickly, too quickly.
Paola grabbed the salad and looked at him. ''Is she nice ?''
''Very Paola.''
''Good,'' she said, as she put the salad in the fridge.
Tristan smiled ad Paola's genuine concern. She was always the one to ask about his latest girlfriends and she was always the one who reminded him to treat them all with the respect they deserved. He remembered snorting the first time she made this comment. After all, most girls never treated him with the respect he deserved. But he never cared, what was respect anyway. He never learned it in this house, unless respect meant doing everything his father wanted.
''Are you going to be okay ?''
Tristan gave Paola a small smile. ''I always am.''
Paola looked at him with sad eyes, before grabbing her coat and kissing him on the cheek once more.
''Behave Tristan.''
''I will, have a good night Paola.''
He listened to Paola's heels, tapping on the tiles, as she made her way to the door. Moments later he heard the door open and close. He was alone again....... He sighed and went into the living room to check the messages on the machine. Two of his mothers' friends, who called to gave him their condolence and the last was from his mother.
''Hello Tristan, I........we just called to let you know that your father and I will be home tomorrow afternoon. The funeral went well, most of your grandpa's friends came............... We love you, Tristan. We'll see you tomorrow.''
Tristan instantly hit the delete button.
*~*~*End Of Flashback*~*~*
And now he was sitting here, feeling sorry for himself and drinking his problems away. At least his dad would get pissed once he found out that he drank a bottle of his whisky. So getting wasted was worth something. Tristan removed the bottle from his head and brought it to his mouth. He could feel the glass against his lips when the doorbell rang. He looked at the clock again and then realized who it was.......
''Shit, Rory.''
He had forgotten all about her. He took another sip of the liquor, put it down on and got up to answer the door.
He walked straight to the door. He didn't even bother to look in the mirror and fix his hair or properly button his shirt. He walked up to the door and pulled it open, not wanting to keep her waiting. And there she was, looking even more beautiful than she usually did in her long and elegant black coat.
''If it isn't Mary knocking on my door,'' he said, as he eyed her up and down.
''Tristan........hey,'' Rory said, feeling uncomfortable at the fact that he was looking at her like that so openly.
His appearance immediately caught her attention. He was still in the same clothes as this morning, only the first two buttons of his shirt were undone, his hair was tangled and uncombed, as if he had run his hand through it a couple of times. And there was something tiring about his icy eyes. Tristan noticed that she was staring at him and smirked.
''Yeah, I had a........rough afternoon.''
Rory rolled her eyes. ''It's just about to begin,'' Rory said, as she walked passed him and entered his parents' mansion.
''Demanding, I like it.''
Tristan closed the door and turned around to face Rory. She was looking around the hallway in awe, taking in all the magnificent paintings of Tristan's ancestors and the detailed carvings in the wooden banisters of the stairs. He could hear her gasp as she glanced at him.
''Your house is amazing.''
Tristan had the tendency to roll his eyes, but didn't out of respect for Rory.
''It's all my parents' doing. I'm sure your grandparents' house is just as daunting.''
''Are you kidding ? They would totally envy your parents if they saw all this,'' Rory said, waving her arms in the direction of the carvings.
Tristan crossed his arms and leaned against the dresser, as he watched her run her fingers over the carvings and look up at the crystal chandelier above them.
''So, do you want a tour of the house first or...........?''
''No,'' Rory answered, embarrassed by her behavior. ''Let's just start.''
Tristan nodded. ''Where do you wanna do this, living room, kitchen, my room ?'' He suggestively raised his eyebrow.
''Living room's fine.''
Tristan nodded and briefly met her eyes before leading her in to the living room. Rory followed Tristan over to the couch, taking in all the beautiful furniture and decorations around her. There was even a glass bowl, standing precisely in the middle of a small table, with glass fruit in it. She was glad to see that the couch wasn't made of glass. She sat down on the couch and looked around the admirable and meticulous living room once more. Her eyes fell upon the bottle of whisky, that was standing on the table behind Tristan.
''You drink ?''
''Occasionally, helps me get in the mood.''
Rory rolled her eyes again and grabbed her bag. ''Let's just get started.''
Tristan sighed and sat down on the couch too, making sure that there was enough space between them for her to breathe. He watched as she got a couple of books, pens and paper out of her bag.
''Prepared, aren't we ?'' he asked, lifting one eyebrow.
Rory ignored his comment and slightly turned her body, so that one leg was resting on the couch and her other foot was placed firmly on the carpet.
''I didn't know which books you have read, so I brought a variety.''
''A variety indeed,'' Tristan said, scanning the books that were lying between them.
Rory tucked her hair behind her ears with her index fingers and looked at him.
''Which one do you wanna use ?''
Tristan shrugged, as he mimicked her sitting position.
Rory sighed. ''Which one have you actually read ?''
''All of them,'' Tristan answered, staring straight in to her cerulean eyes.
''Kidding ? You actually read something besides Sports Illustrated and porn magazines ?''
Tristan had a comeback for that, he really did, but when he realized that she was right, his comeback faded away. Instead, he grabbed his whisky and took a sip. He saw the expression of surprise and disappointed on Rory's face as he took yet another sip. He offered the bottle to her, but she shook her head and looked at him like he was crazy.
''Do you want something else to drink ?''
''No, let's just get this over with so you can get back to your earlier activities,'' Rory said, lowering her eyes to the books.
''Which one do you recommend ?'' Tristan asked.
''This one,'' Rory said, as she lay her fingers on the books of her choice.
Tristan nodded and put his hand on the book, covering her fingers as she did this.
''It's a classic,'' Rory continued, as she tried to pull her hand back.
But Tristan didn't want to let her go. Her hand fitted so perfectly in the crook of his hand and her skin felt so soft underneath his experienced fingers. He started to gently stroke her arm with his free hand, sending chills of fear and confusion through Rory's body.
''Tristan.........''
But Rory was cut off as Tristan lay his fingers against her lips.
''Ssssh, you're much prettier when you're quiet,'' Tristan said, as she traced Rory's lips with his thumb.
''Tristan, you're drunk.''
''From half a bottle of whisky ? It takes much more..........Mary,'' he said, in a soft voice, tracing his finger down her chin.
''The bottle's empty, Tristan..........''
Rory's breathing started to get more frequent as Tristan lowered his fingers to her neck, rubbing little circles on her skin as he did this. Rory's eyes were glued to his and she couldn't look away, she didn't want to look away. Cause she was hoping that she could read his next move in his eyes. But it seemed as if Tristan could sense her intentions, cause his eyes darkened and he got a distant look in his eyes.
That was when Rory started to get scared. His hand was now resting on her throat, his fingers gripping the back of her neck. Rory opened her mouth to say something as she released one of her hands and put it against his chest, trying to force him to back off. But before she could say anything, he captured her lips with his own. Rory tried to break free of his chains, but he pushed her head against his mouth with his hand. With the other, he had grabbed her hands and held them tightly against his chest, making her helpless.
And though there was a sensation in Rory's stomach, tears started to form in her eyes and slid down her cheek. She didn't want it to happen like this. Her first kiss was supposed to be special, memorable, but not forced.
Tristan knew that something was wrong, when he tasted the salt on her lips. He abruptly broke the kiss and looked at her. Tears filled her sad eyes. Immediately regret filled Tristan's head.
''Rory............I'm so sorry, I didn't know............sorry.''
He let go of her hands, which she immediately pulled towards her. He reached for her face, but she practically jumped off the couch.
''Rory..........,'' he said, as he got up too.
''You're drunk,'' she said, taking a few steps back.
''You don't understand. I didn't mean to, I swear.''
Rory nodded, hastily wiping her tears away with the back of her hand.
''I have to go.''
She turned around and almost ran out of the living room. When Tristan heard the door close, he ran a hand through his hair, thinking of a way to get him out of this mess. But he couldn't think of anything, the only thing he could think about was the cause of it. He turned around, grabbed the bottle of whisky and looked at it. Finally he threw it against the wall and sank on the couch, burying his head in his hands.
Rory heard the shattering of glass and for a moment she hesitated if she should check on Tristan or not. But just the thought of being near Tristan again made her shiver and she continued walking to her car. Still, she couldn't help to feel sorry for him. There was something quite sad about him.
*R*E*V*I*E*W*! Please ? :-) Well, this was it. Short, I know, but a chapter that had to stand on its own. I'll try to make the next on longer, promise :-) Sorry, for my lack of writing skills, but.......I don't know, it wasn't really flowin', know what I mean ? Anyway, thanks again for your kind reviews!!! :-)
*A/N: Hey!!! :-) I probably should apologize for taking so long, but I've already let you know that my updates will be weekly from now on. But I still feel like I should apologize, cause I really do wanna update every day, but writing chapters takes time (even crappy ones like this one!) and I have two stories to update instead of one so......hope people are still reading. :-)
*~*~*:-)*~*~*Bye, smile :-)
Tristan was sitting in the living room, with his back against the expensive leather of his parents' couch, staring at the clock, with a bottle of his father's whisky in his hand. He looked at the dark liquid in the bottle. Some fancy brand imported from Ireland or something. Nothing but the best for Alexander DuGrey. Tristan shifted his gaze back to the clock as he took another sip out of the half empty bottle. Minutes seemed hours and hours seemed ages. For every second that ticked away, his mind processed a million thoughts and images. Of his Grandpa mostly. He could even picture him lying in his coffin. In a designer suit of course, his father wouldn't have it any other way. Even the dead had to look good. Tristan gritted his teeth as he remembered his parents' message on the machine this afternoon. He put the cool bottle against his head and closed his eyes.
*~*~*Flashback*~*~*
As soon as Tristan got home, he dropped his keys on the dresser and made his way to the kitchen. It was the same routine every day. When he entered the kitchen a warm smile caressed his features, causing the wrinkles in his forehead to disappear. Paola, his nanny, was standing by the sink, washing tomatoes. She was a sweet lady in her fifties with a Spanish background. She had beautiful light brown skin and hardly any wrinkles, except when she would get worried. He remembered memorizing every curve and line of her face when she would read to him when he was little. To sooth him in a way, cause his parents weren't there to read to him and kiss him goodnight.
''Hey Paola,'' he greeted.
Paola looked up and he was greeted by two cheerful brown eyes, life shining brightly in them.
''Hola cariño,'' she said, as she quickly wiped her hands and gave him a quick peck on his cheek.
''How was school ?''
Tristan shrugged as he sat down at the bar. ''The usual.'' He watched her as she skillfully cut the tomatoes at a rapid speed. When he was little, he used to be afraid that one day she would cut herself, but luckily she never did.
''Any good grades ?''
''No, bad ones,'' Tristan answered truthfully.
Paola put down her knife and looked up at him, concerned.
''Don't worry, this girl is coming over to tutor me.''
Paola nodded and started to display the pieces of tomato on the salad, she had prepared earlier.
''What's this girls name ?''
''Rory,'' Tristan answered quickly, too quickly.
Paola grabbed the salad and looked at him. ''Is she nice ?''
''Very Paola.''
''Good,'' she said, as she put the salad in the fridge.
Tristan smiled ad Paola's genuine concern. She was always the one to ask about his latest girlfriends and she was always the one who reminded him to treat them all with the respect they deserved. He remembered snorting the first time she made this comment. After all, most girls never treated him with the respect he deserved. But he never cared, what was respect anyway. He never learned it in this house, unless respect meant doing everything his father wanted.
''Are you going to be okay ?''
Tristan gave Paola a small smile. ''I always am.''
Paola looked at him with sad eyes, before grabbing her coat and kissing him on the cheek once more.
''Behave Tristan.''
''I will, have a good night Paola.''
He listened to Paola's heels, tapping on the tiles, as she made her way to the door. Moments later he heard the door open and close. He was alone again....... He sighed and went into the living room to check the messages on the machine. Two of his mothers' friends, who called to gave him their condolence and the last was from his mother.
''Hello Tristan, I........we just called to let you know that your father and I will be home tomorrow afternoon. The funeral went well, most of your grandpa's friends came............... We love you, Tristan. We'll see you tomorrow.''
Tristan instantly hit the delete button.
*~*~*End Of Flashback*~*~*
And now he was sitting here, feeling sorry for himself and drinking his problems away. At least his dad would get pissed once he found out that he drank a bottle of his whisky. So getting wasted was worth something. Tristan removed the bottle from his head and brought it to his mouth. He could feel the glass against his lips when the doorbell rang. He looked at the clock again and then realized who it was.......
''Shit, Rory.''
He had forgotten all about her. He took another sip of the liquor, put it down on and got up to answer the door.
He walked straight to the door. He didn't even bother to look in the mirror and fix his hair or properly button his shirt. He walked up to the door and pulled it open, not wanting to keep her waiting. And there she was, looking even more beautiful than she usually did in her long and elegant black coat.
''If it isn't Mary knocking on my door,'' he said, as he eyed her up and down.
''Tristan........hey,'' Rory said, feeling uncomfortable at the fact that he was looking at her like that so openly.
His appearance immediately caught her attention. He was still in the same clothes as this morning, only the first two buttons of his shirt were undone, his hair was tangled and uncombed, as if he had run his hand through it a couple of times. And there was something tiring about his icy eyes. Tristan noticed that she was staring at him and smirked.
''Yeah, I had a........rough afternoon.''
Rory rolled her eyes. ''It's just about to begin,'' Rory said, as she walked passed him and entered his parents' mansion.
''Demanding, I like it.''
Tristan closed the door and turned around to face Rory. She was looking around the hallway in awe, taking in all the magnificent paintings of Tristan's ancestors and the detailed carvings in the wooden banisters of the stairs. He could hear her gasp as she glanced at him.
''Your house is amazing.''
Tristan had the tendency to roll his eyes, but didn't out of respect for Rory.
''It's all my parents' doing. I'm sure your grandparents' house is just as daunting.''
''Are you kidding ? They would totally envy your parents if they saw all this,'' Rory said, waving her arms in the direction of the carvings.
Tristan crossed his arms and leaned against the dresser, as he watched her run her fingers over the carvings and look up at the crystal chandelier above them.
''So, do you want a tour of the house first or...........?''
''No,'' Rory answered, embarrassed by her behavior. ''Let's just start.''
Tristan nodded. ''Where do you wanna do this, living room, kitchen, my room ?'' He suggestively raised his eyebrow.
''Living room's fine.''
Tristan nodded and briefly met her eyes before leading her in to the living room. Rory followed Tristan over to the couch, taking in all the beautiful furniture and decorations around her. There was even a glass bowl, standing precisely in the middle of a small table, with glass fruit in it. She was glad to see that the couch wasn't made of glass. She sat down on the couch and looked around the admirable and meticulous living room once more. Her eyes fell upon the bottle of whisky, that was standing on the table behind Tristan.
''You drink ?''
''Occasionally, helps me get in the mood.''
Rory rolled her eyes again and grabbed her bag. ''Let's just get started.''
Tristan sighed and sat down on the couch too, making sure that there was enough space between them for her to breathe. He watched as she got a couple of books, pens and paper out of her bag.
''Prepared, aren't we ?'' he asked, lifting one eyebrow.
Rory ignored his comment and slightly turned her body, so that one leg was resting on the couch and her other foot was placed firmly on the carpet.
''I didn't know which books you have read, so I brought a variety.''
''A variety indeed,'' Tristan said, scanning the books that were lying between them.
Rory tucked her hair behind her ears with her index fingers and looked at him.
''Which one do you wanna use ?''
Tristan shrugged, as he mimicked her sitting position.
Rory sighed. ''Which one have you actually read ?''
''All of them,'' Tristan answered, staring straight in to her cerulean eyes.
''Kidding ? You actually read something besides Sports Illustrated and porn magazines ?''
Tristan had a comeback for that, he really did, but when he realized that she was right, his comeback faded away. Instead, he grabbed his whisky and took a sip. He saw the expression of surprise and disappointed on Rory's face as he took yet another sip. He offered the bottle to her, but she shook her head and looked at him like he was crazy.
''Do you want something else to drink ?''
''No, let's just get this over with so you can get back to your earlier activities,'' Rory said, lowering her eyes to the books.
''Which one do you recommend ?'' Tristan asked.
''This one,'' Rory said, as she lay her fingers on the books of her choice.
Tristan nodded and put his hand on the book, covering her fingers as she did this.
''It's a classic,'' Rory continued, as she tried to pull her hand back.
But Tristan didn't want to let her go. Her hand fitted so perfectly in the crook of his hand and her skin felt so soft underneath his experienced fingers. He started to gently stroke her arm with his free hand, sending chills of fear and confusion through Rory's body.
''Tristan.........''
But Rory was cut off as Tristan lay his fingers against her lips.
''Ssssh, you're much prettier when you're quiet,'' Tristan said, as she traced Rory's lips with his thumb.
''Tristan, you're drunk.''
''From half a bottle of whisky ? It takes much more..........Mary,'' he said, in a soft voice, tracing his finger down her chin.
''The bottle's empty, Tristan..........''
Rory's breathing started to get more frequent as Tristan lowered his fingers to her neck, rubbing little circles on her skin as he did this. Rory's eyes were glued to his and she couldn't look away, she didn't want to look away. Cause she was hoping that she could read his next move in his eyes. But it seemed as if Tristan could sense her intentions, cause his eyes darkened and he got a distant look in his eyes.
That was when Rory started to get scared. His hand was now resting on her throat, his fingers gripping the back of her neck. Rory opened her mouth to say something as she released one of her hands and put it against his chest, trying to force him to back off. But before she could say anything, he captured her lips with his own. Rory tried to break free of his chains, but he pushed her head against his mouth with his hand. With the other, he had grabbed her hands and held them tightly against his chest, making her helpless.
And though there was a sensation in Rory's stomach, tears started to form in her eyes and slid down her cheek. She didn't want it to happen like this. Her first kiss was supposed to be special, memorable, but not forced.
Tristan knew that something was wrong, when he tasted the salt on her lips. He abruptly broke the kiss and looked at her. Tears filled her sad eyes. Immediately regret filled Tristan's head.
''Rory............I'm so sorry, I didn't know............sorry.''
He let go of her hands, which she immediately pulled towards her. He reached for her face, but she practically jumped off the couch.
''Rory..........,'' he said, as he got up too.
''You're drunk,'' she said, taking a few steps back.
''You don't understand. I didn't mean to, I swear.''
Rory nodded, hastily wiping her tears away with the back of her hand.
''I have to go.''
She turned around and almost ran out of the living room. When Tristan heard the door close, he ran a hand through his hair, thinking of a way to get him out of this mess. But he couldn't think of anything, the only thing he could think about was the cause of it. He turned around, grabbed the bottle of whisky and looked at it. Finally he threw it against the wall and sank on the couch, burying his head in his hands.
Rory heard the shattering of glass and for a moment she hesitated if she should check on Tristan or not. But just the thought of being near Tristan again made her shiver and she continued walking to her car. Still, she couldn't help to feel sorry for him. There was something quite sad about him.
*R*E*V*I*E*W*! Please ? :-) Well, this was it. Short, I know, but a chapter that had to stand on its own. I'll try to make the next on longer, promise :-) Sorry, for my lack of writing skills, but.......I don't know, it wasn't really flowin', know what I mean ? Anyway, thanks again for your kind reviews!!! :-)