she didn't know how to describe it. A/N: sorry, again for the time. I have so much homework that I have hardly any time left over.

Disclaimer: Boring, isn't it? Reading all of these disclaimers?

Summary: it's about a boy and a girl. You should know the rest.

Takes Place: If you haven't seen it in any of my other chapters, the insane asylum is just down the road.

Chapter 5. On Your Doorstep

Rory drove for over 2 hours, just clearing her head, but that didn't work. Her head wasn't cleared, and she had to go home sometime. She just didn't want to. So she turned on the radio and a song she didn't know came on. She could tell that she didn't like the artist, so she turned the dial.

She didn't know what she was looking for, but she did know it wasn't, in any way, what she had experienced before. She wanted something... that made her feel. Made her feel... she didn't know how to explain it. She just knew it wasn't what she had.

So she drove, to clear her mind. Although she knew it wouldn't work. Nothing would work.

--- Tristan ---

He slammed the door as he came into his own room. He was sopping wet, dripping on the 'white, white, white' carpet.

What did he have to do? Why couldn't she have just come with him? Why was she damn hard all the time?

He heard his mother shouting at him from down the stairs, but he did what he always did: he turned on his CD player, as Led Zepplin blasted through the huge speakers set up. He cracked his neck as he walked toward his dresser.

He stripped down and put on a new pair of boxers and a white t-shirt. He knew his mom was going to leave soon, and then he would be alone. His dad was on a business trip, and his mom was going to be on one.

This wasn't new. He was used to being alone. Sometimes, he just wanted to be a normal teen, so he let the maids have a night off, and he did everything himself.

So, he decided to take a nice, long, shower, to clear his head.

When he came out, he turned off Zepplin and looked around the house; his mother was gone. He was alone.

He felt nice.

Kind, even.

So he excused the maids, and waited. For what, he didn't know. He waited for something to happen, guess.

Something big would happen. He needed it to. He needed... something. Something good. Something that would change him. Something that would just... change.

So he left the house, a green tea bottle in hand, and sat on the steps. Thinking. Clearing his mind.

He got so frustrated that he didn't know what to do. Questions were swirling inside of his head as he threw the empty glass bottle to the street and watched it shatter from the compact.

He closed his eyes and was left to his own rotten skull to think in. He walked into the house and laid down on the couch in the "family" room.

Tristan's eyes flew open as he heard the doorbell rang. He checked the clock, 9:37, it read. PM. When the hell did time race so quickly? He checked the position he was in. He was lying down. He must have been sleeping.

He got up and jogged to the door.

Outside was... her. But it wasn't her, it was someone who had more cuts and bruises on her than he ever seen.

"Rory?" he asked softly.

"Is the offer still open?" then she erupted in sobs.

A/N: got to leave it there, sorry guys. Longer chapters I think are going to be up in the next few.

Paige

PS. Review!