Accidents and I Love Yous
Disclaimer: As always, I do not own the Gilmore Girls, or any of the characters, or any of the brilliant plot ideas. Please don't sue me. I don't have any money to speak of, so it would be disappointing.
Rating: PG-13, maybe… maaaaaybe R later on….
A/N: Here's chapter four! Thanks for all of the reviews!!
Chapter 4: A Realization
"You go lie down on the couch," Lorelai instructed as she led Luke into the house. "I think I can scrounge up some dry clothes that'll fit you."
Luke nodded, lowering himself slowly onto her couch, watching her as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom.
"I can't guarantee that it'll be flannel, though," Lorelai called from upstairs. Luke chuckled despite himself. She returned quickly, tossing him an oversized white t-shirt and a pair of black boxers, which were, Luke quickly noticed, covered with small, yellow smiley faces. He shot Lorelai a look.
"I know. Not exactly your style. Rory gave them to me as a gag gift at my bachelorette party…" Lorelai trailed off, and Luke averted his eyes from hers at the mention of her wedding. "Obviously, that didn't turn out like I planned," Lorelai muttered. There were several seconds of awkward silence before Lorelai spoke again. "So I'll let you get changed, and I'll be right back with some stuff for your head." She retreated quickly.
Luke sighed, staring at the smiley face boxers. Slowly, groaning at the stiffness that was beginning to develop in his muscles, Luke stripped off his rain-soaked clothes, and pulled on the boxers and t-shirt.
With another groan, he lowered himself down onto the couch again, stretching out his legs, and trying in vain to ignore the pounding in his head, which had been worsening steadily since he had regained consciousness in his truck. He was going to be a wreck in the morning.
As Luke waited for Lorelai to return, his eyes traveled around her family room, taking time to study her belongings—pictures of her and Rory, knick-knacks that, no doubt, had some crazy stories behind them. He was slightly surprised at how natural it felt to be in her house, surrounded by her things—to be a part of her life.
Kind of.
Sure, he was here all the time, fixing one thing or another, helping her out when work at the Inn overwhelmed her. But he hardly ever came without a reason.
Or, more accurately, without an excuse.
He sank further into the couch, breathing deeply. He inhaled again, realizing that, if he tried hard enough, he could catch a whiff of Lorelai's perfume. He was also fully aware that he was acting like a love-sick teenager.
But he was love-sick. Had been for years.
Luke closed his eyes, the faint smell of Lorelai's perfume and the exhaustion of the day slowly lulling him to sleep. In the back of his mind, a voice told him to stay awake—at least until Lorelai came back.
But his body thought otherwise, and after a few long minutes spent struggling to fight it, Luke gave up. What could it hurt to rest his eyes for a few minutes, anyways?
Upstairs, Lorelai was busily digging through her medicine cabinet, searching for bandages. She was relieved to be home. The panic of the night was finally wearing off, and she was exhausted.
But the fear was still there.
The fear of what could have happened, if she hadn't shown up when she did. Or if the accident had been worse. Lorelai shook her head, trying to focus on something else. She knew that she was hanging onto her composure by a thread. In fact, she was surprised that she had made it this long without having a complete breakdown.
"Don't cry…" She said under her breath. She had to hold it together for about twenty minutes longer—enough time to get Luke cleaned up. She repeated the matra silently.
Don't cry.
Don't cry.
Don't cry.
She took a deep breath, but a few tears slipped down her cheeks, despite her best efforts to hold them back.
"Where are the damned bandages?" She muttered, swearing under her breath. Finally, she found several large bandages, buried behind a large box of nail polish. She grabbed them, sniffing back her tears, and headed downstairs.
"Not to worry," she said, walking back into the family room. "The doctor is here."
Lorelai paused when she saw Luke on the couch, and she smiled. He was sprawled out, his mouth open slightly, his arm hanging limp over the side of the couch. He was breathing deeply, slowly, and she realized that he was asleep.
She approached him quietly, kneeling down on the floor beside the couch. She studied him for several minutes in silence, realizing that she rarely had an opportunity to just look at him. Sure, she saw him every day at the diner.
But did she ever really see him? His skin? His eyes? His smile?
She took it all in now, surprised at how he affected her. She again found herself crying, and this time, she couldn't hold back the tears.
So she sat there, kneeling by Luke, and allowed herself to cry—to release the emotions that she had been holding back since she had found Luke's truck on the side of the road.
Eventually, her tears died down, and she wiped her cheeks roughly. She glanced up at Luke, relieved to see that he hadn't woken up.
She grabbed a few cotton balls and a bottle of rubbing alcohol that she had found upstairs. After pouring a small amount of alcohol onto a cotton ball, she reached up, dabbing at Luke's cut. He grimaced in his sleep, no doubt feeling the sting of the alcohol, and Lorelai frowned. She continued to clean the wound gently, biting her lower lip in concentration as she tried to cause him as little pain as possible. She paused though, when she realized that Luke's eyes were open.
"Hey," he said softly, his voice slurred by sleep.
"Hey yourself," Lorelai replied, returning the cotton ball to his cut.
Luke winced. "That hurts," he mumbled, pulling away slightly.
"I bet," she responded. "But the cut isn't very deep," she murmured. "You shouldn't need stitches or anything. Now, hold still. I'm almost done." She dabbed at the cut a few more times, before reaching for a bandage and pressing it delicately over the cut. "Sorry," she said sympathetically. "No Barbie band-aids today."
Luke chuckled. "I think I'll live." Lorelai pressed down on the bandage once more, making sure that it was secure. Then, without thinking about it, she leaned down to place a soft kiss on his forehead. She lingered for several seconds, her lips warm against his skin, and Luke felt his heart skip a beat.
He was hopeless. Completely hopeless. He sighed as Lorelai pulled away, disappointed. her eyes meeting his.
"Okay?" She asked, her eyes meeting his. Luke nodded, clearing his throat.
"What about you?" He asked, studying her face.
Lorelai looked at him, confused at the concern in his eyes. "I'm fine… But then again, I wasn't the one who crashed my car into a tree…"
"You've been crying," Luke stated, ignoring her attempt at humor. He reached up slowly, touching the dampness that still lingered on her cheeks.
Lorelai hesitated, surprised that he had noticed. Lorelai looked away self-consciously, and tried to come up with a believable excuse for her tears. But, as Luke's eyes found hers, her mind went blank.
"You scared me today," she said, her voice barely a whisper. Luke's hand moved to the other side of her face, wiping away the last remnants of tears, reveling in the feel of her skin under his fingertips.
"I'm sorry," he said, absently stroking her skin with his thumb.
Lorelai barely shook her head. "Don't be sorry. I'm just glad that you're okay." She returned her focus to the warmth of his hand on her face. Without a word, she bent down, wrapping her arms awkwardly around his chest. Luke hesitated for only a second, before returning her embrace, his eyes closing at the wave of emotions that swept over him unexpectedly.
"God," Lorelai murmured into his chest. "It seems like all I do lately is lose it around you."
"Don't worry about it." Luke said. "Anything for you."
And for a brief moment, Lorelai had an overwhelming urge to kiss him. The feeling caught her off guard. This was Luke, after all. Her best friend. She'd never felt like this with him.
Okay—maybe once or twice she'd thought about kissing him…
…Maybe more than that.
But she'd never felt like this. Not with Luke. Not with anyone.
And it frightened her.
Lorelai pulled away, frowning. But she smiled when Luke's eyes met hers. Those deep, blue eyes…
"You're tired," she said abruptly.
Luke frowned. "Yeah…" he said, his brow furrowing at the sudden loss of contact.
"I'll grab you some Tylenol and some ice for your head," Lorelai said, quickly getting up and retreating to the kitchen.
She returned several minutes later, placing a bottle of Tylenol and a glass of water on the coffee table, then gently resting an ice pack, wrapped in a towel, on Luke's forehead.
"Thanks," Luke said, reaching up to hold the ice pack. Inadvertently, his fingers brushed against her arm, and he felt a shiver of electricity shoot through his body.
Lorelai felt it too, and jerked her arm away, more abruptly than she had meant to. Luke looked up at her, and she could see the hurt in his eyes. She berated herself for being so jumpy around him, and wondered why, in fact, she had suddenly become so nervous.
"Get some rest," Lorelai said quickly, averting her eyes from his. "I'll come down to check on you in a couple hours."
Luke watched her as she headed upstairs, feeling suddenly depressed.
In the back of his mind, he had always hoped that Lorelai might return his feelings. Not that he had ever seen any real sign of it. And he had never had the courage to come right out and ask her how she felt.
He hadn't wanted to ruin their friendship. But after her behavior tonight, he realized that he wouldn't have to worry about that. Obviously, Lorelai didn't have feelings for him beyond friendship. Hell—she had jumped about ten feet when his hand had brushed against her arm. If that wasn't a bad sign, he didn't know what was.
"Perfect end to a perfect day," Luke muttered. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, hoping that he would be able to fall asleep, and hoping that he wouldn't dream about Lorelai.
Upstairs, Lorelai collapsed onto her bed, burying her face in her pillow.
What the Hell was going on? What had just happened?
But she knew. Deep down, she had always known.
Without thinking, Lorelai grabbed her phone, dialing Rory's number at Yale. After several rings, Lorelai heard Rory pick up.
"No one's here," Rory mumbled, her voice muffled.
"Rory, it's me." Lorelai said, her voice low.
"Mom…" Rory whined. "It's past midnight. I'm sleeping. Why aren't you sleeping?" She hesitated, her voice growing suspicious. "And why are you whispering?"
"I'm in crisis," Lorelai said, her voice urgent.
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Lorelai heard rustling as Rory sat up in bed. "Okay. What happened?" Rory asked. She could sense the seriousness in her mother's voice, and decided that it wasn't the time for sarcasm.
Lorelai took a deep breath. "I think I'm in love with Luke."
TBC…
A/N: Well… that chapter ended up somewhere I wasn't planning… funny how that works. But I still like it, and I hope that you guys do, too. The next chapter should be up in a few days… I'm going to be busy over the weekend, but I'll do my best.
Disclaimer: As always, I do not own the Gilmore Girls, or any of the characters, or any of the brilliant plot ideas. Please don't sue me. I don't have any money to speak of, so it would be disappointing.
Rating: PG-13, maybe… maaaaaybe R later on….
A/N: Here's chapter four! Thanks for all of the reviews!!
Chapter 4: A Realization
"You go lie down on the couch," Lorelai instructed as she led Luke into the house. "I think I can scrounge up some dry clothes that'll fit you."
Luke nodded, lowering himself slowly onto her couch, watching her as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom.
"I can't guarantee that it'll be flannel, though," Lorelai called from upstairs. Luke chuckled despite himself. She returned quickly, tossing him an oversized white t-shirt and a pair of black boxers, which were, Luke quickly noticed, covered with small, yellow smiley faces. He shot Lorelai a look.
"I know. Not exactly your style. Rory gave them to me as a gag gift at my bachelorette party…" Lorelai trailed off, and Luke averted his eyes from hers at the mention of her wedding. "Obviously, that didn't turn out like I planned," Lorelai muttered. There were several seconds of awkward silence before Lorelai spoke again. "So I'll let you get changed, and I'll be right back with some stuff for your head." She retreated quickly.
Luke sighed, staring at the smiley face boxers. Slowly, groaning at the stiffness that was beginning to develop in his muscles, Luke stripped off his rain-soaked clothes, and pulled on the boxers and t-shirt.
With another groan, he lowered himself down onto the couch again, stretching out his legs, and trying in vain to ignore the pounding in his head, which had been worsening steadily since he had regained consciousness in his truck. He was going to be a wreck in the morning.
As Luke waited for Lorelai to return, his eyes traveled around her family room, taking time to study her belongings—pictures of her and Rory, knick-knacks that, no doubt, had some crazy stories behind them. He was slightly surprised at how natural it felt to be in her house, surrounded by her things—to be a part of her life.
Kind of.
Sure, he was here all the time, fixing one thing or another, helping her out when work at the Inn overwhelmed her. But he hardly ever came without a reason.
Or, more accurately, without an excuse.
He sank further into the couch, breathing deeply. He inhaled again, realizing that, if he tried hard enough, he could catch a whiff of Lorelai's perfume. He was also fully aware that he was acting like a love-sick teenager.
But he was love-sick. Had been for years.
Luke closed his eyes, the faint smell of Lorelai's perfume and the exhaustion of the day slowly lulling him to sleep. In the back of his mind, a voice told him to stay awake—at least until Lorelai came back.
But his body thought otherwise, and after a few long minutes spent struggling to fight it, Luke gave up. What could it hurt to rest his eyes for a few minutes, anyways?
Upstairs, Lorelai was busily digging through her medicine cabinet, searching for bandages. She was relieved to be home. The panic of the night was finally wearing off, and she was exhausted.
But the fear was still there.
The fear of what could have happened, if she hadn't shown up when she did. Or if the accident had been worse. Lorelai shook her head, trying to focus on something else. She knew that she was hanging onto her composure by a thread. In fact, she was surprised that she had made it this long without having a complete breakdown.
"Don't cry…" She said under her breath. She had to hold it together for about twenty minutes longer—enough time to get Luke cleaned up. She repeated the matra silently.
Don't cry.
Don't cry.
Don't cry.
She took a deep breath, but a few tears slipped down her cheeks, despite her best efforts to hold them back.
"Where are the damned bandages?" She muttered, swearing under her breath. Finally, she found several large bandages, buried behind a large box of nail polish. She grabbed them, sniffing back her tears, and headed downstairs.
"Not to worry," she said, walking back into the family room. "The doctor is here."
Lorelai paused when she saw Luke on the couch, and she smiled. He was sprawled out, his mouth open slightly, his arm hanging limp over the side of the couch. He was breathing deeply, slowly, and she realized that he was asleep.
She approached him quietly, kneeling down on the floor beside the couch. She studied him for several minutes in silence, realizing that she rarely had an opportunity to just look at him. Sure, she saw him every day at the diner.
But did she ever really see him? His skin? His eyes? His smile?
She took it all in now, surprised at how he affected her. She again found herself crying, and this time, she couldn't hold back the tears.
So she sat there, kneeling by Luke, and allowed herself to cry—to release the emotions that she had been holding back since she had found Luke's truck on the side of the road.
Eventually, her tears died down, and she wiped her cheeks roughly. She glanced up at Luke, relieved to see that he hadn't woken up.
She grabbed a few cotton balls and a bottle of rubbing alcohol that she had found upstairs. After pouring a small amount of alcohol onto a cotton ball, she reached up, dabbing at Luke's cut. He grimaced in his sleep, no doubt feeling the sting of the alcohol, and Lorelai frowned. She continued to clean the wound gently, biting her lower lip in concentration as she tried to cause him as little pain as possible. She paused though, when she realized that Luke's eyes were open.
"Hey," he said softly, his voice slurred by sleep.
"Hey yourself," Lorelai replied, returning the cotton ball to his cut.
Luke winced. "That hurts," he mumbled, pulling away slightly.
"I bet," she responded. "But the cut isn't very deep," she murmured. "You shouldn't need stitches or anything. Now, hold still. I'm almost done." She dabbed at the cut a few more times, before reaching for a bandage and pressing it delicately over the cut. "Sorry," she said sympathetically. "No Barbie band-aids today."
Luke chuckled. "I think I'll live." Lorelai pressed down on the bandage once more, making sure that it was secure. Then, without thinking about it, she leaned down to place a soft kiss on his forehead. She lingered for several seconds, her lips warm against his skin, and Luke felt his heart skip a beat.
He was hopeless. Completely hopeless. He sighed as Lorelai pulled away, disappointed. her eyes meeting his.
"Okay?" She asked, her eyes meeting his. Luke nodded, clearing his throat.
"What about you?" He asked, studying her face.
Lorelai looked at him, confused at the concern in his eyes. "I'm fine… But then again, I wasn't the one who crashed my car into a tree…"
"You've been crying," Luke stated, ignoring her attempt at humor. He reached up slowly, touching the dampness that still lingered on her cheeks.
Lorelai hesitated, surprised that he had noticed. Lorelai looked away self-consciously, and tried to come up with a believable excuse for her tears. But, as Luke's eyes found hers, her mind went blank.
"You scared me today," she said, her voice barely a whisper. Luke's hand moved to the other side of her face, wiping away the last remnants of tears, reveling in the feel of her skin under his fingertips.
"I'm sorry," he said, absently stroking her skin with his thumb.
Lorelai barely shook her head. "Don't be sorry. I'm just glad that you're okay." She returned her focus to the warmth of his hand on her face. Without a word, she bent down, wrapping her arms awkwardly around his chest. Luke hesitated for only a second, before returning her embrace, his eyes closing at the wave of emotions that swept over him unexpectedly.
"God," Lorelai murmured into his chest. "It seems like all I do lately is lose it around you."
"Don't worry about it." Luke said. "Anything for you."
And for a brief moment, Lorelai had an overwhelming urge to kiss him. The feeling caught her off guard. This was Luke, after all. Her best friend. She'd never felt like this with him.
Okay—maybe once or twice she'd thought about kissing him…
…Maybe more than that.
But she'd never felt like this. Not with Luke. Not with anyone.
And it frightened her.
Lorelai pulled away, frowning. But she smiled when Luke's eyes met hers. Those deep, blue eyes…
"You're tired," she said abruptly.
Luke frowned. "Yeah…" he said, his brow furrowing at the sudden loss of contact.
"I'll grab you some Tylenol and some ice for your head," Lorelai said, quickly getting up and retreating to the kitchen.
She returned several minutes later, placing a bottle of Tylenol and a glass of water on the coffee table, then gently resting an ice pack, wrapped in a towel, on Luke's forehead.
"Thanks," Luke said, reaching up to hold the ice pack. Inadvertently, his fingers brushed against her arm, and he felt a shiver of electricity shoot through his body.
Lorelai felt it too, and jerked her arm away, more abruptly than she had meant to. Luke looked up at her, and she could see the hurt in his eyes. She berated herself for being so jumpy around him, and wondered why, in fact, she had suddenly become so nervous.
"Get some rest," Lorelai said quickly, averting her eyes from his. "I'll come down to check on you in a couple hours."
Luke watched her as she headed upstairs, feeling suddenly depressed.
In the back of his mind, he had always hoped that Lorelai might return his feelings. Not that he had ever seen any real sign of it. And he had never had the courage to come right out and ask her how she felt.
He hadn't wanted to ruin their friendship. But after her behavior tonight, he realized that he wouldn't have to worry about that. Obviously, Lorelai didn't have feelings for him beyond friendship. Hell—she had jumped about ten feet when his hand had brushed against her arm. If that wasn't a bad sign, he didn't know what was.
"Perfect end to a perfect day," Luke muttered. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, hoping that he would be able to fall asleep, and hoping that he wouldn't dream about Lorelai.
Upstairs, Lorelai collapsed onto her bed, burying her face in her pillow.
What the Hell was going on? What had just happened?
But she knew. Deep down, she had always known.
Without thinking, Lorelai grabbed her phone, dialing Rory's number at Yale. After several rings, Lorelai heard Rory pick up.
"No one's here," Rory mumbled, her voice muffled.
"Rory, it's me." Lorelai said, her voice low.
"Mom…" Rory whined. "It's past midnight. I'm sleeping. Why aren't you sleeping?" She hesitated, her voice growing suspicious. "And why are you whispering?"
"I'm in crisis," Lorelai said, her voice urgent.
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Lorelai heard rustling as Rory sat up in bed. "Okay. What happened?" Rory asked. She could sense the seriousness in her mother's voice, and decided that it wasn't the time for sarcasm.
Lorelai took a deep breath. "I think I'm in love with Luke."
TBC…
A/N: Well… that chapter ended up somewhere I wasn't planning… funny how that works. But I still like it, and I hope that you guys do, too. The next chapter should be up in a few days… I'm going to be busy over the weekend, but I'll do my best.