I still am poor...I still own nothing...I still am nineteen and lifeless...thus another chapter for your consumption...enjoy!
RUSTY
"Harold Might Get Jealous"
She wonders what she is thinking. What she really wants to happen. If this is really where she intended to end up tonight. Getting tipsy and kissing her best friend? Maybe not her initial plan but it happened none the less. The funny thing is that she does want it, now that it's here, now that Luke was touching her. The sad thing…is that in the back of her dazed and confused mind she remembers fear, consequences, and herself, all of which end up being bad and wrong. So, she steps away from his arms, touches her lips with her fingertips and diverts her attention to his empty beer bottle…She needs to find a distraction.
"Beer? Want another…Do you want another beer?" She stammers out the question as if it is the hardest thing she'll ever have to say, while brushing past him into the kitchen.
Luke stands dumbfounded in the living room. His jaw dropped his eyes wide… bewilderment settles into his expression and contemplates taking permanent residence there. He is immobile, paralyzed with shock… inadvertently he responds to her query with a squeaky "Yes" and somewhere in the distance hears her open the refrigerator and pop the caps off of the beer. He gets lost in thought again…forgets where he is, only remembers her lips and her warmth.
"Luke…" She's in front of him now, holding out the beer, her arm stretched fully, keeping herself at a safe and reasonable distance, and she's not too surprised when Luke doesn't accept the bottle, doesn't even acknowledge her presence. She attempts to attract his attention once more.
"LUKE…You're beer?" Her voice snaps him out of his reverie and he nervously receives his beer and looks beyond her shoulders to the chair he was, only a few minutes ago sitting in and conversing with his friend.
"Umm…Thank you…" He goes to sit in the chair again brushing lightly past her, feeling some sort of electrical force radiating from her body, and soon after, nothing. He falls into the chair. She moves back to her position on the couch, her refuge. They are somehow back to square one…two friends drinking beer on a Saturday night, yet they've left square one…explored square two, took a detour to square three, avoided square four altogether and found themselves here… ignorant to where the hell they really were.
Luke remembers why he is here in the first place…To fix her TV. Something he so far hasn't gotten around to. With this realization he finds the remote on the coffee table, snatches it quickly, and clicks it on. He begins to fiddle once more, in his desperate need to physically fix something when he can't emotionally.
Lorelai watches him. Allows him to continue what he has begun. Thanking what ever god created coffee, that he hasn't brought up what happened. She feels sick to her stomach…She isn't sure if it is the beer, or the nerves or what…but she feels like she is going to yack. Silently she begins to vow never to drink beer alone with a man again, but throws that out the window when she realizes she still has a full bottle in her hand and feels the need to throw it down the hatch.
Luke is frustrated now. The damn TV doesn't work, she's not saying anything…in fact she isn't even saying anything about the kiss…about the groping they were both enjoying in her living room ten minutes ago. At least he thinks she was enjoying it. 'C'mon Danes, move your mouth, make a noise'. He gives up on the TV and drops the remote carelessly on the hardwood floor. The sound of the plastic cracking causes Lorelai to pull the bottle away from her mouth and look up at Luke. He's not in front of the TV anymore where she expects to see him, he's in front of her, he's staring directly at her, and it freaks her out.
"Luke…What are you doing?" She's careful with her words, afraid of the influence they could bring.
"What the hell is your problem…?" He stumbles a little in front of her but catches himself before he falls forward. She pushes him away while standing up to face him.
"What the hell is my problem…What the hell is your problem…You kissed me!" Staring him down, the anger rises steadily in Lorelai's voice.
"You kissed me back!" It's a showdown now, each testing waters and waiting for the other to break
"Yes…I…Well…" She kicks herself. She broke. She's always been good with words, knows great comebacks, she can even put pop culture references in them. And yet here she is, a little drunk, a little flustered and she can't think of a god damn thing to say. She blames it on the beer, on the time of night, on the full moon, or the fact the snow is melting outside, everything but the truth…that Luke has rendered her speechless.
"Did you want to kiss me?" The beer is making him do things…This isn't him he doesn't…say stuff like this.
"Yes…" 'Did that really come out of my mouth?' She looks at his chest for he's just inches from her now.
"Do you want me to kiss you now?" 'This isn't me…Log this in you memory Danes…Beer + Lorelai fatal'. He's looking down at her now…awaiting her response.
"Harold might get jealous." Her breath is on his cheek now and he wonders if he has ever felt something more wonderful in his entire life that is…until their lips meet.
If you'd like you could review and tell me what you want to read...I'm easy, you can pretty much get me to do anything...Hmm...Well that warrants a DIRTY!
Thanks!
