Future Lit. fic. Jess and Rory have been writing/calling one another for her last year at Yale, and she asks him to come to her graduation. He knows what that would mean.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
He stares dumbly at the ticket in his hand.
It starts in an hour.
Jess Mariano is several things, some of which are undesirable, but he is not a coward.
He has been scared twice.
Once in New York, when a couple of assholes thought it would be funny to chase a seven year-old kid down the street, through rush hour traffic, with guns.
And the next (and last) when he met Rory Gilmore.
He didn't think he'd ever get over that.
And now, he sits in his room holding a piece of paper in his hand, looking at it as if it scares him.
Because it does. She does.
He wouldn't have her any other way.
She looks at herself in a mirror. Her mother is trying not to cry, and Luke rubs her arm soothingly.
It hurts. Everything hurts now. She hates and loves the brief conversations, the letters, the notes in the margins of the books they send each other because they remind her of the one thing she never had.
She thinks that everything she thought was important before is ridiculous now. When she kissed him and left without a word, when she rejected his confession, when she didn't go after him.
She knows how much time she wasted, and she hopes that he knows she sent her heart with that ticket.
She doesn't want him to give it back.
It will start soon, and for the first time, she is nervous. People are sitting down, everyone is getting ready for it to start.
And he is nowhere to be found.
She hesistated at the last when she sent it. It was a risk she was willing to take, but now she isn't quite so sure. He was always afraid of making a commitment. It was a surprise when he answered her first letter. She doesn't want to take him for granted; she knows he might not be there tomorrow or next week or next year.
He might not even be there today.
She misses him.
"If I may have everyone's attention?"
Everyone quiets down, and her stomach drops.
He isn't coming. But what hurts most of all is that she really thought he would.
His heart pounds as he dashes through the forbidding university, remembering the last time he was here. He remembers the confusion he lived in, the pain when she said no and the realization that he never had a chance. Dean had been there first, and he had not been good enough.
"...one of the greatest classes that Yale has ever seen. Our children have..."
Jess tunes out the dean's speech as he races for the door. He knows that she has given up on him. She thinks that he isn't coming. In his mind, he can see her clearly even though he hasn't seen her for a year. Her hair is a little longer than it was, but her eyes are the same beautiful shade of sapphire, and they hold the same depths of emotion that he was afraid to lose himself in.
He skids inside.
Movement at the back of the room catches her eye, and as he walks in, she begins to feel something.
It's hard to explain, but somehow, every memory she ever had of him catches up with her now. The first time they met; their countless discussions of literature that always meant more than she dared hope; the bridge; the kiss; and it all becomes almost too much for her. He meets her gaze, matches its power, and she wishes more than anything that everyone else in the room would disappear.
She has not seen him for so long, and she misses the way he looks.
Names are being called out, but she has lost all sense of time.
"Lorelai Leigh Gilmore."
She walks on trembling legs, her mind a whirl of color and sound and emotion. She can only feel him.
Minutes or hours later, it is over. Her mother rushes over to her, full of congratulations and pride and love. Luke hugs her. Her grandparents shower her with gifts and rare emotion. Sookie and Jackson tell her they love her. Lane hugs her tightly, congratulating her over and over again.
He stands against a wall, trying for nonchalance.
He fails.
She finally disentangles herself from Lorelai and begins walking over to him. At first, it is difficult to focus on anything but putting one foot in front of the other; then, she breaks into a run. She forgets to be careful, forgets to mask her emotion. She forgets that she should be a dignified college graduate who will not give him her heart at a moment's notice.
He catches her in his arms, and she knows then that this is where she was meant to be all along. It will be hard. He will not want to let her in; she will push. Her family will not believe that this is the real thing. But she knows that it is.
"I was always coming," he whispered in her ear. The feeling of his breath on her ear makes her shiver, and he holds her tighter.
"I know."
Their lips meet in a kiss, one that tastes of desire and passion and longing and forever.
Because to her, he has always been forever.
Even as he kisses her, he cannot believe it. The reality of his love for her hit him as soon as she did, and he almost had trouble breathing until she reminded him how.
He cannot promise her the world. He is not sure what he can promise her. He has never been the success her family wanted for her.
He is what she wanted for herself. And that is more than enough for him.
When he looks in her eyes, he can see a lifetime in them.