Shades of Hope – Chapter 2
Green
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Amy Sherman-Palladino. I'm merely frolicking around in her brain. Wow – she's got some dirty thoughts in here! Kidding. ;)
Spoilers: Through episode 5.14, 'Say Something.'
Author's Notes: Wow, thanks for the encouraging reviews! I wasn't planning on updating so soon, but we can thank the paranoid people who cancel school at the very sight of snow. g I would like to address a few comments; feel free to skip over this. First of all, I'm sorry if the tenses tend to change. I've proofed the chapters numerous times, but I don't have a beta for this fandom and, hey, it's fanfiction – I'm not going to read through the entire thing backwards like I do for my AP English essays (a tedious job, btw). Also, my apologies for the length – I felt it would be better to have shorter chapters with more substance than longer chapters with a lot of unnecessary words. If this were a full-length series, each chapter would probably average 2,000 - 3,000 words. As stated previously, a thousand thanks to Rachel and Danielle for encouraging me to post. You girls rock my world.
Lorelai stands across the street from the diner, staring up at it with wide eyes. Her breath is coming out in white puffs, and she wraps her coat tighter around her body, fighting off the chattering of her teeth. She has lost track of time, but she knows that she has been standing outside, in the same spot, for at least ten minutes. The neighbors are probably whispering about her now, but that's okay. It's Stars Hollow – everyone is always gossiping about something. She might as well give them some material to work with.
She squints her eyes and balls up her fists, putting on a determined face before striding across the street toward the diner. She stops at the door. The lights are off in the diner, but she had watched the lights to his apartment turn off just a few minutes ago and she hasn't seen him leave, so she knows he's still in there. She reaches up above the door and grabs the spare key. Without giving herself time to think, she thrusts the key into the keyhole and opens the door. She pockets the key, making a mental note to replace it later, before entering the diner. She walks into a table and curses loudly, rubbing her thigh as she continues through the dark room.
As she heads up the stairs, Lorelai hears his apartment door open. He walks toward the stairs and meets her on the landing. She stands frozen on the top stair, looking into his eyes nervously. She can't quite read the look on his face, but that's nothing new. However, she isn't sure whether or not she feels relieved to see that he doesn't look at all surprised by her intrusion. Instead, he moves back, leaving her enough room to comfortably take the last step. She gives him one last curious stare, before stepping up. He goes back into his apartment, but he leaves his door open, and she takes that as the closest she'll get to an invitation to join him.
She closes the door behind herself and watches Luke sit down on the edge of the bed. He's gazing up at her politely, almost smugly so, as if he has been expecting her visit from the start. She shuffles in her spot, playing with the strap of her shoulder bag until it lies more comfortably. Then she exhales loudly and bites her lip. Luke raises his eyebrows. She tries to smile at him, but it comes out looking more like a grimace. She clears her throat. He continues to stare in a way that becomes more and more condescending to her after each passing moment.
Lorelai feels awkward standing in front of him when he's sitting, so she pulls over one of his kitchen chairs and gingerly sits down across from him. She folds her arms in her lap and then quickly unfolds them again. She notices with some satisfaction that his leg is jiggling, and she knows he only does that when he's nervous or agitated. Although she'd rather he wasn't agitated with her, at least that would mean he's feeling something toward their relationship and not just leaving it in the past with all of his other failed relationships. She suddenly feels pain at the thought that their relationship could be considered a failure, and averts her eyes from his.
'Why won't he say anything?' she wonders, purposely ignoring the fact that she had been the one to come over to his home. She doesn't want to be the one to break this silence. Although she feels saddened by the silence, there's a certain peaceful quality to it all. If she tries really hard, she can pretend that they're still dating and just enjoying a few minutes of comfortable silence. They used to do that a lot. She winces slightly. 'There's that past tense again.'
Lorelai exhales loudly again, turning her head from side to side to examine the apartment. He hasn't turned the lights on. Does he think she isn't going to stay long, or is he just trying to guilt her into leaving his apartment? Well, he's wearing his regular faded jeans and gray shirt. Even though he's not wearing a flannel shirt, he's also not in his pajamas, which means he either dressed in record time to cover up for the fact that he was in his pajamas before she came and interrupted him, or he hadn't been sleeping at all. She's leaning toward the second option, since she doesn't see any clothing strewn about the place. Maybe he was watching television. It's unlikely, but possible, nonetheless.
Okay, why is she focusing on the reason Luke has his lights out to begin with? It's creepy and totally not the point of her visit. And her visit really does have a point. Well, somewhat. The point of the visit is actually just a ploy to be able to visit him in the first place, so really, technically, there is no point at all, but to sit here pointlessly like she is at this very instant. She groans inwardly. 'Oh great, now my head hurts.'
Luke shifts on the bed and Lorelai's head snaps up as the mattress springs squeak under his weight. He clears his throat, and Lorelai begins to make clicking sounds with her tongue. Luke gives her a sharp look, so she stops. Instead, she just continues sitting there, casually glancing around at her surroundings, making a mental note that nothing at all is different. She's happy about that. Only a woman can make Luke change anything about himself. That means there's no other woman in his life.
Finally, Luke sighs loudly, stands up, and breaks the silence by asking, "You want a beer or…. something?"
Lorelai smiles slightly and cocks her head to the side. "Coffee?"
"No."
"Right." She laughs nervously. "No coffee. You're off diner duty, got it."
"It's too late for coffee."
She gasps. "It's never too late for coffee!" He gives her a pointed look and she recoils slightly, realizing he isn't in the mood for her normal conversation tactics. She lets out a sigh and looks down at her lap, entwining her fingers as she does so. "I'll have some water, thanks."
Luke nods and gets out a glass, fills it with water from the sink, and hands it to her. She considers making a joke about spring water versus tap, but quickly decides he probably won't appreciate that, so she doesn't speak. However, she is very, very aware of his gaze on her, so she takes a sip of water, in order to distract herself. It doesn't help. He's trying to make her talk. 'Well, if he really wants me to leave that badly…'
"Luke," she whispers.
"Yeah?"
"I just came here to –" she pauses, looking up at the ceiling. "Wow, that crack is kind of shaped like Barbra Streisand."
"Lorelai," he responds gruffly.
"Right." She looks down at her hands again. "I just came here to tell you that… I want my sweater back." Her eyes widen. That isn't what she meant to say! Why the hell did she say it?
"What?"
"Yeah," she continues, still unsure of why she is doing so, "My sweater. I left it here once - the green one with the sequins on the shoulders. It's just… it's my favorite sweater. I sowed those sequins on myself, you know. It isn't enough that you get to keep my hairbrush with the hearts on it and my favorite coffee mug – you know, the one with Ozzy Osbourne looking almost not stoned – not to mention my dignity, but can't you at least give me back my god damn sweater? Is that too much to ask!"
Luke stares at her, wide-eyed. Her outburst takes him by surprise. She feels satisfied by this reaction, and has a hard time hiding her smug smile. Slowly, the shock wears off and Luke averts his eyes. Instead, he leans forward on the bed and throws a pillow to the floor. Lorelai watches from her seat, baffled. She sees him pick up the sweater. 'He had it under his pillow?' However, before she can contemplate this fact further, he flings the green sweater at her. It hits her in the face. For a moment, she leaves the sweater, shocked by his actions. Luke also stares with wide eyes, obviously surprised by his rashness. Lorelai removes the sweater and she opens her mouth in both surprise and anger.
"What the hell, Luke?"
"I gave you back your sweater."
"Gave? That was not giving. That was throwing."
"Oh, was it?" he asks dryly. "You mean there's a difference?"
"Shut up!"
"Hey! You just threw all the blame for this breakup at me! How could you be mad at me for throwing a god damn sweater at you?"
"I did not throw all the blame at you!"
"Right."
"Hey! You were the one who ended this, not me!"
"Don't, Lorelai," he says, his voice thick with warning.
"No! You didn't give a reason; you just said you couldn't deal with it! What happened to being all in, huh? Was that just something you said to get me into bed with you?" She laughs bitterly. "And I thought you were different, Luke Danes."
"Oh, don't give me that damsel-in-distress crap, Lorelai! You know I would never do anything like that to you!"
"No," she says, her voice reaching an eerily calm tone. "I thought I knew you. I thought you were patient and understanding. I thought you knew what you were getting into. I thought you knew that I had been hurt so much that I barely know how to care, let alone trust. But you ran away at the first sign of trouble, Luke. You ran away without a single word - no explanations. It's just too hard. Well, fine," she growls, "that's fine, Luke. I'm done. I just came to tell you that and –" she reaches into her bag – "to give you back your precious flannel shirt! I don't need it; it doesn't smell like you anymore!" With that, she throws his shirt, along with her green sweater, onto the bed. He stares at the pile of clothes beside him. Then, she gives him a final, withering glare, before stomping out of the apartment and down the stairs.
She doesn't replace the spare key.
TBC…