A/N: Hey everybody! God, I'm so sorry about the delay! Things were a bit
screwed for me lately and it's only yesterday night that I found time to
write. This chapter hasn't been beta-read, deal with it! Anyway, I hope
you're not too angry with me *hides behind computer* and that you'll enjoy
this chapter! Again, really really sorry, I expect that next chapter will
come sooner! And on with the replies! Thanks for your reviews, they
brighten my day!
IMPORTANT! If you want to receive an email when I update, please send an email to me! My address is displayed in my profile!
RachelGreen3: I guess you're very angry with me since I didn't continue ASAP! Hope you can forgive me, he he he... *sheepish smile*
Ali: oh... Do you mean that my story isn't sweet anymore? I try to do my best tot keep a certain balance between sweetness and angst! Hope I succeed. Anyway, don't worry about me writing more, I love writing that story, I love long stories... Loads of chapter to come! Check it out!
Coffeechick87: Yeah, you're horrible, I don't think I'll ever forgive you for not having reviewed... *shakes head in disbelief* it's alright, maybe I should post more regularly and people would read my story regularly. Ha ha ha... You'll see, but a lot of prying from Rory's side is going to come!
Kellene: I continue, I continue... Not ASAP, but well, at least, I continue, huh? Hope you'll like this chapter as much as the last one!
Madz: Hey you! I sent you an email this time since you're always complaining that you don't know when I post... I hope you feel special. No my dear, three chapter and 40 reviews! I can't believe it, it's just amazing. I know, my chapter titles are always found at the last minute. Well, at least, it makes it a little surprise for you! Have fun reading this!
Trory4ever: YEAH! I love you! Ahem, yeah... thanks for the rambling! Ramblers will take over the world once! Muahahahahahaha... Well, I guess English private school every Wednesday afternoon helped my English a bit. Hope I can get it even better. Yep, I love my protective Tristan, he's just perfect, he he he. No, rambling is NEVER enough, lol.
Emz-008: Well, since I haven't updated in ages, I guess you didn't have any problem. Hope you had a great party, they're always fun!
Smile1: Whoa! Thanks for the review! I never expected that someone thought my writing capacity would extend! Yeah, these parts are my fav too, I'm more comfortable writing that than speech parts and actions. Well, I hope this chapter reaches your high expectations! And continue your good job with your story, I love it.
Jazz14: if you find it hilarious and sad, my job is done! The whole story is kept in balance between these two things and if I manage to make you feel it, I'm very very happy! Hope you'll continue to read!
Moi: Well my dear... here is next chapter and things continue to develop in chapter 5 that is gonna be posted soon I hope! Continue to read, I hope you will. And what with everybody calling themselves "moi"? One of my friends even handed in tests with that name on them.
Disclaimer: I own a laptop with a CMM desktop, does it mean that I own Tristan? Wish it was that way. Anyway... I don't own GG, I don't own Kodak, I own my angst and my insanity. And I still write a disclaimer in chapter 4 coz it's an excuse to ramble, he he he.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::
Chapter 4: Precious Stained Snowflakes
It was snowing for the first time of the year. Tristan's heart tightened when he saw the white blanket covering everything. He wondered how he could go through this day when he was so miserable. He thought of skipping school, but he didn't know where to go and he couldn't possibly stay at home. His father was always in the house on Mondays, to sort of recover from his hangover and Tristan knew this week would be awful. Thursday was the 16th, he didn't want to think about it.
He heard someone move upstairs and decided to leave. Earlier, he had dropped Ria at her best friend's so the two could have breakfast together before going to school. Nothing was holding him back now, and knowing that his father was awake was a very good reason not to stay in the blasted house. He decided to go to school on foot. Why, he didn't know, but walking is great moment to think. He walked quickly through the still sleepy streets. It was dark and windy, but the snow was making everything prettier.
'Like Mom. Whenever she appeared somewhere, everything seemed to be lighter and prettier. She always had a smile and a kind word, even for the worst people.'
Tristan shook his head slightly, oblivious of the stares coming from the passers-by. What could a Chilton kid be doing walking in the snow with soaked shoes, no gloves, scarf or anything?
About half a mile away from school, Tristan started to feel bad. He was frozen to the bone; the falling snow was biting his face and the cut on his forehead was burning like hell with the water and the wind. The icy air had awakened a firing pain in his lungs. He sat on a step to catch his breath and rest a bit, angry at himself for being so weak. He made a snowball, threw it on the road and watched it dissolve in a puddle of mud. He stared blankly the crystal stuff being stained slowly by the dirty brown of the street.
He stayed there for ten minutes, curled up with his head resting on his knees, moving up memories and thinking of what was ahead. Thinking of the day in Chilton, the lies and the fake smiles. Then about the evening. He didn't see the bus pass in front of him, nor did he see, among the passengers, the girl with cerulean eyes stare at him with surprise and concern.
* * *
When Tristan reached the main door of Chilton, the school was already bustling with kids. He silently made his way through the halls, avoiding the questioning stares of his friends, who weren't exactly used to see their king arrive with muddy pants, frozen and wet.
"Hey man, why the hell are you in that state?" shouted Ben who was busy copying Spanish homework at the last minute.
Tristan shrugged. "Just came on foot."
The others stared at him in bewilderment and started to laugh. "Still the kamikaze one, huh? And I bet that cut is again a product of your maverick attitude. What did you do again? Tried to skateboard down the banister in front of your house?"
Tristan smirked and waved at them before heading to his locker. However, as soon as he had turned the corner, the smirk disappeared. The 'kamikaze attitude' comment made him smile bitterly. Another day to spend lying was just beginning. But even that bitter smile disappeared. He frowned and focused on the pain in his lungs. Something was definitely wrong; he had some difficulty breathing. Feeling that he was suffocating, he took a deep breath, but it only made him cough. He sensed the blood filling his mouth and swallowed it quickly, resuming his walk. He didn't want to think about his possible internal injuries, he already had his external ones to keep him occupied.
He eventually reached his locker and opened it. Rory had somehow shoved his notes in it; he picked them up and made them reintegrate his history folder when a crumbled paper caught his attention.
*What's wrong?*
Tristan laughed sullenly at Rory's message. Damn, did she want a list? He slammed his locker shut and felt the scab covering the gashes of his back pull on the skin at his movement. Afraid that the thin layer of dry blood would break, he calmed down and finally headed to his first class, shuffling his feet. He sat in the back, as usual, but he didn't pay attention to the teacher's rambling. His mind was still on the Sunday, which both Ria and him had spent locked in his room. He hadn't been able to get up all day and his body was just killing him.
* * *
He avoided Rory all day; he just didn't want to face the one person who had obviously seen beyond his lies. He didn't know when or how, but he didn't really care: his goal was to put as much distance as possible between them. He skipped lunch and hid in the library, a sanctuary for anyone with problems. He pulled out his tattered David Copperfield copy from his bag and soon drowned in another reality, as gloomy as his. He liked Dickens. Tristan believed it was because the characters were as miserable as him, but he held the secret hope that one day, he would get out of the nightmare like Oliver Twist.
In class, he would keep up the act and be the arrogant prat the Chilton society was used to see and worshipped. None of his so-called friends ever really wondered about him and it was just fine. If there was a thing that Tristan knew, it was hiding everything that could get him hurt even more. But sometimes, the mask would fall, leaving a broken Tristan without any protection. Oh, he would pick it up quickly and hide again, but it would be too late: Rory Gilmore had already seen what was beneath.
She had observed him all day. She never had thought of him as being really human and the image of him on the frozen step was flashing constantly in her head. It was so unusual to see him other than like funny and aggravating Tristan. That was what everybody thought he was, but she had spotted him in a very different posture that morning. Rory knew that in the whole school, she was the only one to have noticed this internal battle to keep the walls up, she was the only one to have realised that he had skipped lunch. She had seen in his eyes something that nobody else seemed to have ever even guessed. Sadness, melancholy, pain, anger. It was all a blur. But most of all, she had realised something that was killing her: he was avoiding her. Tristan had probably read her message, and now he was running away.
* * * * * *
Rory stepped in the warm house and the familiar scent of coffee pushed Tristan in a corner of her mind as she headed for the kitchen. There she found Lorelei, staring pensively at the yard covered in snow. She was clutching a cup of coffee which wasn't exceptional. She grinned widely when she saw Rory.
"Spawn of mine!" And she started to twirl in the room, taking out cinnamon cookies, filling a cup for her beloved daughter and handing her the whole.
"Mom, do you need something from me? What with all the bribery?" asked an already worried Rory. It wasn't good when she was treated like that, it always meant that her mom wanted something, and it was either crazy, either embarrassing.
Lorelei sat next to the stove and started to kick her legs in the air, still holding her coffee cup and grinning mischievously. "How was your encounter with Gorgeous Spawn of Satan?"
Rory didn't even react at the way Lorelei had named him. She could see his sad smile again, how he bowed his head each time he was crossing her path, making sure not to meet her gaze. 'How stupid I was to have put that note in his locker! I should have minded my own business, we're not friends, why would he have come to me?' She put her head on the table and closed her eyes.
Lorelei watched Rory with anxiety. Her daughter would normally roll her eyes at the sound of his name, slightly amused. She would tell her about their arguments, about how exasperating he was. But not this time.
"What's wrong?"
Rory started to laugh scarily at the sound of her own message. What could possibly be wrong? Nothing was really wrong, he wasn't her friend, she didn't care about him, what was the matter?
"Nothing, nothing! So, how was Michel today?" she answered with a light tone. Lorelei decided to classify the moment as momentary tiredness breakdown for now and moved on to full rambling mode.
"Funny! He was as usual, he insulted me in French, he complained all day about nonsense Christmas stuff and he became green."
Rory raised an eyebrow "Green?"
"Yep! I was talking with Sookie and I don't remember what I was telling her, but suddenly, she went all jittery and she waved her spoon a bit more forcefully than expected and something green and sticky landed on Michel's nose. I don't want to know what it was, but Michel was green, it was a great Kodak moment, really. Then I annoyed him all day with some Tristan comments, on how frustrated I was that he wasn't a gorgeous blonde boy but only a nasty stuck-up git who still had green stuff on his nose."
* * *
The rest of the evening was spent joyously. Rory had few homework for once and they spent the time in the garden, building a giant Luke-like snowman. They even fixed a cup in his hand and Lorelei had stolen his baseball cap earlier in the day. Rory stuffed snow in Lorelei's mouth when she was laughing, everything ended in a huge snowball war.
Around ten, soaked and cold, they headed back inside and changed their clothes. They brewed more coffee and sat in front of the television, perfectly knowing that no program was worth their attention but too tired to do something else. Rory had forgotten about the forlorn boy on the frozen step, that same boy who had spent his day under assault, picking up the bricks of his walls.
"Are you gonna tell me what happened with Tristan?" finally broke Lorelei, watching Rory carefully. She saw how her daughter crumbled under the interrogation and she immediately understood that it was serious.
On her side, Rory was again flowed with the images of him. She was sad that he was avoiding her. For the first time since the dreadful day she put a foot in Chilton, she had missed his annoying comments; she had missed seeing him leaning against the lockers, smirk flashing, stupid comeback ready. She sighed and turned off the TV.
"What do you do when someone is not really your friend but you're the only one to know something about them is wrong? And what do you do when the person knows you know and avoids you?"
"Does Tristan avoid you?"
Rory nodded and continued. "I think it's something important. Something he buried under that stupid attitude. And it affects him, but the guy is just too proud to admit that he needs help!"
Lorelei directed her gaze to the ceiling. "If only you had listened to me and sent those notes to a graphologist..."
* * *
Tristan entered the house carefully by the kitchen door. He paused in the deserted room to make out the different sounds in the mansion. It was quite silent, like always, and only the maid moving furniture could be heard. He grabbed something to eat for both Ria and him and cautiously climbed the stairs to his room. He knew Ria would be there, silent and scared that their father had heard her coming back from school. He would never get violent in front of other people, even in front of the maid, but how are you supposed to face the man that hates you when fear is clutching your stomach?
He found her hidden in his closet and they sat there to eat their bread and chocolate. They talked about everything and anything, from Ria's teacher to the neighbours' dog. Both knew they were doing a great effort to avoid the burning subject but it was always like that: they wanted to forget.
They heard Charles Dugrey talk with the maid. It was kind of sickening how pleasant and courteous he was with other people. They overheard him closing the door behind her. It was still early so she wouldn't have cooked. Both the kids could foreshadow that there wouldn't be any meal that evening.
Tristan lied awake for a long time that night. Ria had gone to sleep about three hours ago, but he couldn't fall asleep. He was thinking about Rory Gilmore and what her message meant. How much did she know, what did she see today? He knew he had upset her by staying away from her, but could he trust her? He didn't think so. He trusted nobody and Rory would never understand. Furthermore, she probably didn't really care. Ever since she had started Chilton, he had been an ass to her and she had proved that she disliked him in many occasions.
He was repeating over and over in his head that he didn't need help and that he would manage. He didn't want anybody to know, he was aware of what would happen: he had heard too many stories of separated siblings to trust the social services. No, he wouldn't ask anything. And Rory Gilmore wouldn't pry into his life.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::
I hope you loved it, I hope you're going to press that magnificent lavender button in the bottom left corner of your screen. Look, it's calling you, waving madly! Don't be wicked to the poor little button, pay attention to it!
IMPORTANT! If you want to receive an email when I update, please send an email to me! My address is displayed in my profile!
RachelGreen3: I guess you're very angry with me since I didn't continue ASAP! Hope you can forgive me, he he he... *sheepish smile*
Ali: oh... Do you mean that my story isn't sweet anymore? I try to do my best tot keep a certain balance between sweetness and angst! Hope I succeed. Anyway, don't worry about me writing more, I love writing that story, I love long stories... Loads of chapter to come! Check it out!
Coffeechick87: Yeah, you're horrible, I don't think I'll ever forgive you for not having reviewed... *shakes head in disbelief* it's alright, maybe I should post more regularly and people would read my story regularly. Ha ha ha... You'll see, but a lot of prying from Rory's side is going to come!
Kellene: I continue, I continue... Not ASAP, but well, at least, I continue, huh? Hope you'll like this chapter as much as the last one!
Madz: Hey you! I sent you an email this time since you're always complaining that you don't know when I post... I hope you feel special. No my dear, three chapter and 40 reviews! I can't believe it, it's just amazing. I know, my chapter titles are always found at the last minute. Well, at least, it makes it a little surprise for you! Have fun reading this!
Trory4ever: YEAH! I love you! Ahem, yeah... thanks for the rambling! Ramblers will take over the world once! Muahahahahahaha... Well, I guess English private school every Wednesday afternoon helped my English a bit. Hope I can get it even better. Yep, I love my protective Tristan, he's just perfect, he he he. No, rambling is NEVER enough, lol.
Emz-008: Well, since I haven't updated in ages, I guess you didn't have any problem. Hope you had a great party, they're always fun!
Smile1: Whoa! Thanks for the review! I never expected that someone thought my writing capacity would extend! Yeah, these parts are my fav too, I'm more comfortable writing that than speech parts and actions. Well, I hope this chapter reaches your high expectations! And continue your good job with your story, I love it.
Jazz14: if you find it hilarious and sad, my job is done! The whole story is kept in balance between these two things and if I manage to make you feel it, I'm very very happy! Hope you'll continue to read!
Moi: Well my dear... here is next chapter and things continue to develop in chapter 5 that is gonna be posted soon I hope! Continue to read, I hope you will. And what with everybody calling themselves "moi"? One of my friends even handed in tests with that name on them.
Disclaimer: I own a laptop with a CMM desktop, does it mean that I own Tristan? Wish it was that way. Anyway... I don't own GG, I don't own Kodak, I own my angst and my insanity. And I still write a disclaimer in chapter 4 coz it's an excuse to ramble, he he he.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::
Chapter 4: Precious Stained Snowflakes
It was snowing for the first time of the year. Tristan's heart tightened when he saw the white blanket covering everything. He wondered how he could go through this day when he was so miserable. He thought of skipping school, but he didn't know where to go and he couldn't possibly stay at home. His father was always in the house on Mondays, to sort of recover from his hangover and Tristan knew this week would be awful. Thursday was the 16th, he didn't want to think about it.
He heard someone move upstairs and decided to leave. Earlier, he had dropped Ria at her best friend's so the two could have breakfast together before going to school. Nothing was holding him back now, and knowing that his father was awake was a very good reason not to stay in the blasted house. He decided to go to school on foot. Why, he didn't know, but walking is great moment to think. He walked quickly through the still sleepy streets. It was dark and windy, but the snow was making everything prettier.
'Like Mom. Whenever she appeared somewhere, everything seemed to be lighter and prettier. She always had a smile and a kind word, even for the worst people.'
Tristan shook his head slightly, oblivious of the stares coming from the passers-by. What could a Chilton kid be doing walking in the snow with soaked shoes, no gloves, scarf or anything?
About half a mile away from school, Tristan started to feel bad. He was frozen to the bone; the falling snow was biting his face and the cut on his forehead was burning like hell with the water and the wind. The icy air had awakened a firing pain in his lungs. He sat on a step to catch his breath and rest a bit, angry at himself for being so weak. He made a snowball, threw it on the road and watched it dissolve in a puddle of mud. He stared blankly the crystal stuff being stained slowly by the dirty brown of the street.
He stayed there for ten minutes, curled up with his head resting on his knees, moving up memories and thinking of what was ahead. Thinking of the day in Chilton, the lies and the fake smiles. Then about the evening. He didn't see the bus pass in front of him, nor did he see, among the passengers, the girl with cerulean eyes stare at him with surprise and concern.
* * *
When Tristan reached the main door of Chilton, the school was already bustling with kids. He silently made his way through the halls, avoiding the questioning stares of his friends, who weren't exactly used to see their king arrive with muddy pants, frozen and wet.
"Hey man, why the hell are you in that state?" shouted Ben who was busy copying Spanish homework at the last minute.
Tristan shrugged. "Just came on foot."
The others stared at him in bewilderment and started to laugh. "Still the kamikaze one, huh? And I bet that cut is again a product of your maverick attitude. What did you do again? Tried to skateboard down the banister in front of your house?"
Tristan smirked and waved at them before heading to his locker. However, as soon as he had turned the corner, the smirk disappeared. The 'kamikaze attitude' comment made him smile bitterly. Another day to spend lying was just beginning. But even that bitter smile disappeared. He frowned and focused on the pain in his lungs. Something was definitely wrong; he had some difficulty breathing. Feeling that he was suffocating, he took a deep breath, but it only made him cough. He sensed the blood filling his mouth and swallowed it quickly, resuming his walk. He didn't want to think about his possible internal injuries, he already had his external ones to keep him occupied.
He eventually reached his locker and opened it. Rory had somehow shoved his notes in it; he picked them up and made them reintegrate his history folder when a crumbled paper caught his attention.
*What's wrong?*
Tristan laughed sullenly at Rory's message. Damn, did she want a list? He slammed his locker shut and felt the scab covering the gashes of his back pull on the skin at his movement. Afraid that the thin layer of dry blood would break, he calmed down and finally headed to his first class, shuffling his feet. He sat in the back, as usual, but he didn't pay attention to the teacher's rambling. His mind was still on the Sunday, which both Ria and him had spent locked in his room. He hadn't been able to get up all day and his body was just killing him.
* * *
He avoided Rory all day; he just didn't want to face the one person who had obviously seen beyond his lies. He didn't know when or how, but he didn't really care: his goal was to put as much distance as possible between them. He skipped lunch and hid in the library, a sanctuary for anyone with problems. He pulled out his tattered David Copperfield copy from his bag and soon drowned in another reality, as gloomy as his. He liked Dickens. Tristan believed it was because the characters were as miserable as him, but he held the secret hope that one day, he would get out of the nightmare like Oliver Twist.
In class, he would keep up the act and be the arrogant prat the Chilton society was used to see and worshipped. None of his so-called friends ever really wondered about him and it was just fine. If there was a thing that Tristan knew, it was hiding everything that could get him hurt even more. But sometimes, the mask would fall, leaving a broken Tristan without any protection. Oh, he would pick it up quickly and hide again, but it would be too late: Rory Gilmore had already seen what was beneath.
She had observed him all day. She never had thought of him as being really human and the image of him on the frozen step was flashing constantly in her head. It was so unusual to see him other than like funny and aggravating Tristan. That was what everybody thought he was, but she had spotted him in a very different posture that morning. Rory knew that in the whole school, she was the only one to have noticed this internal battle to keep the walls up, she was the only one to have realised that he had skipped lunch. She had seen in his eyes something that nobody else seemed to have ever even guessed. Sadness, melancholy, pain, anger. It was all a blur. But most of all, she had realised something that was killing her: he was avoiding her. Tristan had probably read her message, and now he was running away.
* * * * * *
Rory stepped in the warm house and the familiar scent of coffee pushed Tristan in a corner of her mind as she headed for the kitchen. There she found Lorelei, staring pensively at the yard covered in snow. She was clutching a cup of coffee which wasn't exceptional. She grinned widely when she saw Rory.
"Spawn of mine!" And she started to twirl in the room, taking out cinnamon cookies, filling a cup for her beloved daughter and handing her the whole.
"Mom, do you need something from me? What with all the bribery?" asked an already worried Rory. It wasn't good when she was treated like that, it always meant that her mom wanted something, and it was either crazy, either embarrassing.
Lorelei sat next to the stove and started to kick her legs in the air, still holding her coffee cup and grinning mischievously. "How was your encounter with Gorgeous Spawn of Satan?"
Rory didn't even react at the way Lorelei had named him. She could see his sad smile again, how he bowed his head each time he was crossing her path, making sure not to meet her gaze. 'How stupid I was to have put that note in his locker! I should have minded my own business, we're not friends, why would he have come to me?' She put her head on the table and closed her eyes.
Lorelei watched Rory with anxiety. Her daughter would normally roll her eyes at the sound of his name, slightly amused. She would tell her about their arguments, about how exasperating he was. But not this time.
"What's wrong?"
Rory started to laugh scarily at the sound of her own message. What could possibly be wrong? Nothing was really wrong, he wasn't her friend, she didn't care about him, what was the matter?
"Nothing, nothing! So, how was Michel today?" she answered with a light tone. Lorelei decided to classify the moment as momentary tiredness breakdown for now and moved on to full rambling mode.
"Funny! He was as usual, he insulted me in French, he complained all day about nonsense Christmas stuff and he became green."
Rory raised an eyebrow "Green?"
"Yep! I was talking with Sookie and I don't remember what I was telling her, but suddenly, she went all jittery and she waved her spoon a bit more forcefully than expected and something green and sticky landed on Michel's nose. I don't want to know what it was, but Michel was green, it was a great Kodak moment, really. Then I annoyed him all day with some Tristan comments, on how frustrated I was that he wasn't a gorgeous blonde boy but only a nasty stuck-up git who still had green stuff on his nose."
* * *
The rest of the evening was spent joyously. Rory had few homework for once and they spent the time in the garden, building a giant Luke-like snowman. They even fixed a cup in his hand and Lorelei had stolen his baseball cap earlier in the day. Rory stuffed snow in Lorelei's mouth when she was laughing, everything ended in a huge snowball war.
Around ten, soaked and cold, they headed back inside and changed their clothes. They brewed more coffee and sat in front of the television, perfectly knowing that no program was worth their attention but too tired to do something else. Rory had forgotten about the forlorn boy on the frozen step, that same boy who had spent his day under assault, picking up the bricks of his walls.
"Are you gonna tell me what happened with Tristan?" finally broke Lorelei, watching Rory carefully. She saw how her daughter crumbled under the interrogation and she immediately understood that it was serious.
On her side, Rory was again flowed with the images of him. She was sad that he was avoiding her. For the first time since the dreadful day she put a foot in Chilton, she had missed his annoying comments; she had missed seeing him leaning against the lockers, smirk flashing, stupid comeback ready. She sighed and turned off the TV.
"What do you do when someone is not really your friend but you're the only one to know something about them is wrong? And what do you do when the person knows you know and avoids you?"
"Does Tristan avoid you?"
Rory nodded and continued. "I think it's something important. Something he buried under that stupid attitude. And it affects him, but the guy is just too proud to admit that he needs help!"
Lorelei directed her gaze to the ceiling. "If only you had listened to me and sent those notes to a graphologist..."
* * *
Tristan entered the house carefully by the kitchen door. He paused in the deserted room to make out the different sounds in the mansion. It was quite silent, like always, and only the maid moving furniture could be heard. He grabbed something to eat for both Ria and him and cautiously climbed the stairs to his room. He knew Ria would be there, silent and scared that their father had heard her coming back from school. He would never get violent in front of other people, even in front of the maid, but how are you supposed to face the man that hates you when fear is clutching your stomach?
He found her hidden in his closet and they sat there to eat their bread and chocolate. They talked about everything and anything, from Ria's teacher to the neighbours' dog. Both knew they were doing a great effort to avoid the burning subject but it was always like that: they wanted to forget.
They heard Charles Dugrey talk with the maid. It was kind of sickening how pleasant and courteous he was with other people. They overheard him closing the door behind her. It was still early so she wouldn't have cooked. Both the kids could foreshadow that there wouldn't be any meal that evening.
Tristan lied awake for a long time that night. Ria had gone to sleep about three hours ago, but he couldn't fall asleep. He was thinking about Rory Gilmore and what her message meant. How much did she know, what did she see today? He knew he had upset her by staying away from her, but could he trust her? He didn't think so. He trusted nobody and Rory would never understand. Furthermore, she probably didn't really care. Ever since she had started Chilton, he had been an ass to her and she had proved that she disliked him in many occasions.
He was repeating over and over in his head that he didn't need help and that he would manage. He didn't want anybody to know, he was aware of what would happen: he had heard too many stories of separated siblings to trust the social services. No, he wouldn't ask anything. And Rory Gilmore wouldn't pry into his life.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::
I hope you loved it, I hope you're going to press that magnificent lavender button in the bottom left corner of your screen. Look, it's calling you, waving madly! Don't be wicked to the poor little button, pay attention to it!