Okay, complaining over, onto the goodness.
Thanks for your reviews again!
VeroSNM- Yes, it definitely takes some willpower to be unspoiled. It also takes precautions to make it stay that way.
So, thanks to my readers and the other writers at FanFiction to make sure we stay untainted with your spoilers. lol.
Read on, and review!
"...There's this guy."
Damn it. He broke her gaze.
"He's amazing. That's the only way you can describe– no, wait; gorgeous, comforting, caring, listening, entertaining, hot, compassionate, and nice-assed– just to name a few."
With every word he tried not to scream in pain form his heart ripping again. He felt like he was gonna throw up, or cry, or both.
But his mind began to wonder, "What do you want me to do?" he asked more confused than assisting, his eyes still on the floor.
"Well, obviously I really like him, but I don't know if he feels the same way towards me," she explained with a grin, finding Luke's reaction to this all too funny.
"You've gotta be kidding."
"Well, ...no."
"Who wouldn't return those feelings to you? Why--why wouldn't someone like you?" he asked, getting more mad.
Well, I guess that's my answer. She toyed with the idea of just kissing him here, but thought it might be more entertaining and flattering to let Luke rant some more on how aweosme she is. Though he didn't really.
"What! Do you just expect me to sit down and talk with this guy trying to figure out if he likes you?"
"That would be entertaining."
"Oh, I see. You're just getting your yayas from torturing me."
"I don't have yayas. Do not accuse me of getting or having yayas. Well, except for maybe these." She pushed her breasts upward.
He ignored her and went on. "You just think it's so hilarious to see me hurt when you talk about other guys, don't you! Well, fuck you, Lorelai!" He grabs the mug her coffee had been in and throws it at the window facing the square. He walks up the stairs to his apartment, completely shattered himself.
Oh my God. What did I just do?
She slid around on the stool slowly to face the counter. Her mouth was agape. Her heart was torn, and she really didn't know what to do next. She rested her forehead in her hands as a lump formed in her throat.
And she cried for what seemed like forever.
She laid her head on the cool, familiar surface of the counter. She sobbed over him and over the fact that she felt completely helpless. If there was one thing she hated it was feeling helpless.
Would he ever talk to her again? How would she ever be able to tell him the truth if he wouldn't talk to her?
She picked her head up and grabbed a napkin from the dispenser, drying her eyes.
She could always try just going upstairs, but she was sure he'd just yell some more, not give her a chance to explain.
She was just tired now, and she was getting a headache from the crying.
She sighed.
Moving the paint samples and suggestions and her purse to one side of the of the counter, she went back behind the counter, her back to it. She put her hands on the counter and hopped up. She slid on and brought her feet up as well. She suddenly got an overwhelming feeling of vertigo this time (okay, this was the first real time, but still) not having Luke there to steady her, make her feel completely at ease.
She lay back on the counter and let out a deep breath.
I'm insane. I'm so goddamn insane.
She kicked her shoes to the floor. Just in remembrance of the dream, it was comfortable.It almost made her feel sexy. God, that dream had seemed so real.
She turned her head to see the coffee maker. It was off now, but that was comforting as well.
I guess it's appropriate- sleeping at my second home.
And that's what she did. She fell asleep on the diner's counter. She was out too soon to think about the consequences of rolling over onto the floor or Luke finding her or Rory worrying. She dozed off.
--
"Lorelai!" she heard him wake her.
She groaned and rolled over, Luke running quickly, reaching her just in time to catch her.
He barely had. He caught her a fourth of a second before she would've hit the floor. His right hand was around her arms and breasts, and his left was under her knees. He shook her gently now, trying again.
She cried his name quietly, painfully, eyes still closed. "Don't," he heard. He also heard some more sparse words before shaking her again, including "love" and "never."
"Lorelai, wake up."
She heard Luke's voice, but it wasn't from the dream. She opened her eyes.
He was staring from above, holding her.
"You awake now?" he asked, nicer than she'd seen him last night, but still cold somehow.
She nodded slowly, staring. She couldn't describe how incredible his hands felt on her, when he adjusted his grip, tickling her thigh. How close they were now set something off in her too.
"Then I'm gonna set you down," and he did. She stood next to him now, getting used to the floor.
"What was that?" she asked.
"I was about to ask you the same thing. You were asleep on my counter."
"Ugh, I fell asleep?" She closed her eyes again.
"I came downstairs, and you were about to roll off. I caught you."
"Really? I thought you were mad at me."
"I still am. It doensn't mean I want you to die... or wanna clean up the mess."
"If you tried to clean it up right after it happened, it might look like you killed me, so just for future reference..."
"Yeah." He grinned a little.
She noticed how he wasn't wearing his hat yet. His hair was still kinda damp from his shower.
"You slept down here all night?" he asked.
She looked at the clock. "Apparently not. It's five am."
He went into the kitchen.
"Luke?"
He debated answering her. He was still mad. This would take a while to heal.
"Yeah "
"Can I... talk to you?"
He debated this even more, but he had to cave. He was interested in how he'd dig herself out. He was also fairly interested to see if she'd do any reacting to the concrete proof that he had a thing for her.
"Um... I guess so," he said, walking back out of the kitchen. "Where?" He tried not to show any emotion, any hint of wanting to forgive or wanting forgiveness.
"Storage room?" she asked, playfully.
"No."
"Right here?"
"Nope."
"The stairwell?"
He shook his head.
"Your apartment?"
He thought about it. This weren't the best circumstances for her to first see his apartment. There were still dozens of Kleenex from his sobfest last night. Did he really want her to see that? Maybe, she should see the effects, her killings. Would she even notice?
He nodded and headed up to the stairs, her following.
Hope you liked it!
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