A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews! Just loved it! You did made my day. This chapter is Richard/Emily centric. I liked it, but sometimes when Ilike my stuff, people don't and vice-versa.

masamor99: Here it is! Hope you like it.

ProFfeSseR: Isn't it? I still can't believe that I made that up. Thanks for reviewing my fic. I adore yours, thought you should know that.

Inca: I think you will like this chapter. I hope you do. It is yours. :)

cmbarrytx: Thank you! Hee, you made me very happy.

Caroline: I had to study for a text last night, but here it is! You can enjoy it now! Loved the review, thank you.

Disclaimer: Not mine, dammit!

Part I – It seems it's written… But we can't read between the lines

Everyone says that the best thing about college is the fact that you don't have to actually live with your family. But it seemed to Emily that she was seeing them more than before she moved to Yale.

Well, Hope was still the same. She seemed to be more beautiful than ever, smarter than ever… And their father seemed to be more embaressad by Hope's actions than ever. She didn't went to college, she simply said that she wanted to write, and she doesn't really need to go to college to do that (of course, you can go to college to write, but the bohemian spirit inside Emily's big sister, did not allowed her to do something like go to college).

And Hope Everit, being Hope Everit, would not announce that like any other woman would. There wouldn't be no blessing, no permition. She simply entered in the room, while their father read a book and Emily sat on the couch writing an essay, and said "Hey, I'm getting married".

The book and pen were dropped in shock. Michael looked at Hope like she was nuts. And like the first long note of a simphony, after Hope's grinn and Michael's realisation that she wasn't kidding, the yelling started. It was the song Hope and her dad sang since Helen's death: yelling.

Emily knew it was no lie, her sister was deadly serious. She was going to get married to this french guy.. Paintor, writer, whatever. Hope was happy, Emily knew that. She would babble hours about how she was going to live in Montmartre with Claude and have tons of French kids, and finally get away from boring Connectcut.

They kept yelling at each other the most horrible things they could find.

Enough, Emily thought. I'm done with it.

She slowly got up from the couch. Her father turned his head from Hope to her and asked "Where are you going?"

"Yale. Home…"

And without waiting for an answer she just walked to the door and found herself alone in the middle of the street.

It's not like New Heaven is the center of all kinds of excitement in this world, there weren't actually many places to go there. Only a few people had the courage to live near Yale, so the town consisted mostly in students, ex-students and Yale's staff. But even if it was the most remote place on United States, it was Emily's favorite place. Especially on Friday nights like that one. Tired students would walk around the campus and the towm, filling bars and squares, loving the fact that tomorrow they could sleep until midday.

And while she was pretending not to care about the yelling at her hourse, she found a yelling by her side.

"It's not like that!" He screamed at the thin blonde girl with glasses.

"No! It is never like that, is it? You are never around, and when you are, you ignore me. I'm tired of being ignored, Richard. I'm tired of always, always being the one to give in."

She turned around, and walked away from him.

"Come on! Penny!"

"No, don't you dare to make me sound wrong again.. Just… Come back when you grow up… Or when you start to like me again." And with that, she disappeared through the square that led to the dorms.

He stood there running his hand through his hair, and then through his face. He looked at Emily for a little bit, obviously embarassed.

She started to walk again 'till she heard:

"Everit!"

Wishing this boy would stop yelling, she turned around and nodded.

"Emily Everit?"

"Yes…"

"Oh, don't break my heart telling me you don't remember me." He said dramaticly. A smirk, that she could see from afar, appearing on his face.

"Breaking your heart now." She replied turning around and continuing to walk.

"Gilmore!" He said, she heard him running to catch up with her.

"Oh, dear God, You've got to be kidding."

"Oh, He never jokes around with things like this." He said smiling. "So, you are going to keep walking?"

"I intend so, yes."

"Ouch."

"So, are you going to keep walking with me?"

"Oh, I intend so, yes."

She grinned even if she didn't want to.

After at least five minutes with no word being spoken, Richard grinned at her again and said:

"I feel a certain tension between us."

"Oh, do you?" She looked at him certain that her eyes were expressing pure danger to that boy.

"Why?" He asked still grinning, with hands on his coat's pockets.

"You know, when someone that you don't actually like, fallows you, the tension is kind that a given."

"Oh… Why don't you like me?"

"Do you have a memory issue?"

That night in special, was suppose to be good. It was very chilly, the beginning of the Fall, and Emily was suppose to walk around the town and the campus, thinking about books she could write. Travelling on her own little world, not being stalked by Richard Gilmore, of all people.

"It seemed to me," She started "That you are still bad with girls."

"Oh… That's why you are mad at me… Hey, listen… About that night."

"Oh, no. I don't really wanna hear it!"

"It wasn't my fault!"

"No, I know. Your mom made you do it! I mean that was just mean and the worst kind of behavior any man could have!" She stopped walking and turned to him. Started to feel the anger she thought she had under coltrol.

"It was my mother's fault!"

"Aren't you mama's boy? I was fifteen, you jerk! My escort left me alone in the middle of the whole coming out processs. My sister was drunk! My sister got me drunk! I don't even know how I got out of that place! Did you know that I never got drunk again? Because of you, my house never had alcohol! And did you know that it is very hard not to drink when your sister is marring a French bohemian man and your father has an issue with French people?"

She said loudly, with her finger on his face.

"Okay…"

"I'm not done yet!" She yelled. "You, are a very very imature man, and I hate you since I'm fifteen! You embaressad me in front of all my father's social circle. You made me look and feel stupid! Now get the hell out of my face!"

"Okay… I'm sorry! But you don't know my mother!"

"Scary Gilmore Lady, I do know your mother." She started to walk again.

And he went after her.

"God! Go find another woman to stalk!"

"But I like you, Everit." He said teasing her.

"Well, I don't like you." Her voice tone got back to normal.

And after another five minutes of silence he said.

"So… Your sister is marring a French bohemian?"

Part II – Dry your eyes… Soulmate dry your eyes…Soulmates never die…

The house was empty and dark. She was out. He could feel it somehow…

He climbed up the stairs feeling more tired than ever. Entering in their bedroom, was something he missed. He couldn't help but miss their bed, their combined scents together in one room. It was all of their love, represented by one single thing. The fact that day after day, they were together in that room by the end of it, it didn't matter what happened. It was the only space in the whole world that was theirs, and no one else's.

He sat in the bed, not bothering to turn the lights on. It didn't matter, he knew where everything was… Where everything would be until the end of their lives.

He could still feel her. He could even see her there. Like he had seen so many times... Sick, sad, smiling in a sunny morning, or even loving him… It was their bedroom! It was his Emily...

And he weeped for the first time after his mother's death.