Disclaimer: Once again, I own nothing but some gum, and now, a fleece
blanket.
Author's Note: Sorry it took me a while to update this. (A week to me is a while.) I've been somewhat busy with work and sleep and the new Harry Potter book. He's my guilty pleasure, that Harry Potter. Anyways, let me know what you think, and thanks for all of the reviews. They mean the world to me, honestly. So, without further aidu, chapter three.
* * * * *
Rory sighed into her coffee mug as she stared out the window from her comfortable spot at the kitchen table. The unfamiliar sound of thunder rumbled through the house and she shivered, wrapping the soft blanket that was around her waist further around her shoulders as though it would protect her. Unenthusiastically, she popped a piece of her strawberry- watermelon pop-tart into her mouth and frowned. Whoever thought strawberry and watermelon would make a good combination was seriously troubled.
There was a loud crash upstairs and then the accustomed sound of Lorelai stumbling down the stairs. Her grumpy face appeared around the doorway to the kitchen and she scrunched up her features in distaste. "I fell out of the bed," she complained, padding into the kitchen and pouring herself a cup of coffee. She flopped into the chair opposite Rory and sighed. "And since when does it rain in Stars Hollow? It hasn't rained here in like two million years."
Rory smiled at her mother's exaggeration. "Yes, I think it has been at least a million. Rain sucks," she commented as yet another flash of lightening lit up the dark sky. "It feels like midnight or something."
Lorelai agreed. "You'd think they would cancel that fancy prep school of yours because of this weather. I mean. . . one of you could get struck by lightening and die on school grounds and it would be all their fault."
"Or possibly being at the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Drat." Lorelai grunted, taking a long sip of her coffee and stealing a piece of Rory's pop-tart. Before Rory could warn her, Lorelai had spit the remains of the breakfast snack back on the table. "That is possibly the most disgusting thing I have ever tasted."
"And as much as I would love to stay here and stare at the mush that was just in your mouth, I think that's my cue to get to school." Rory stared in disgust as Lorelai shrugged and put the already chewed pop-tart back into her mouth. She shook her head. "I thought it would be better the second time around. Huh. . . I was wrong."
"Appetizing. . ." Rory sighed.
"Speaking of appetizing, have you talked to Tristan lately?"
"Okay, first of all, Tristan is not appetizing. I can't believe you would even put him in the same category as something like coffee or pizza. And second of all, no. Not since Grandma's on Friday, and I don't plan on seeing him ever again, so please. . . drop it," Rory finished with a nod, as though reassuring herself.
Lorelai glanced at her with one eyebrow raised. "Okay, sorry. Jeez, touchy." With a dramatic sigh, she added, "Have fun in hell today."
Rory grabbed her book bag and threw her hair up in a hasty ponytail. "I will, bye." With a final kiss on her mother's cheek, Rory began to sprint towards Luke's for a final cup of coffee.
* * * * *
Rory shielded herself with her latest bus book as the rain pelted down on her while she ran to the front entrance of the school. The thick pages of 'Swann's Way' did little to protect her from the weather's saturation and she found herself drenched from head to toe before she had even set foot in the building.
Rory muttered to herself wishing she had taken Lorelai up on the offer to borrow her yellow duck umbrella. Her mother had been so excited as she opened it in the house to show it off and then swore at the possibility of being cursed forever by the common superstition.
"I am officially hiding in my bed for the next seven years," she had defiantly declared, and then quickly changed her mind when she remembered that Sookie had promised her a cup of peppermint flavored coffee if she made it to work on time that morning.
As Rory walked down the crowded hallway, she could hear her shoes squeaking against the tiled floor and felt the uncomfortable feeling of water soaking through the soles and into her socks. Water droplets formed at the ends of her hair and eventually ran down her neck, creating a constant feeling of something that she imagined to feel like hypothermia.
As she made her way to her locker, she deposited her book bag and took out the books she would need for first period. She shook her hair to rid it of the rain that had collected and ran her long sleeve over her face in effort to dry herself. Sniffing, she pulled the cotton of her navy sweater sleeves over her fingers and clutched her books closely to her chest.
Before she knew what was happening, she felt herself being pulled into an empty classroom, her hair flying in front of her face and her books crashing to the floor. She heard the sound of the door closing, and then the defying sound of it being locked. A gentle hand moved the strands of hair that had been covering her eyes and she found herself looking into a familiar pair of ice blue eyes.
Shaking her head in disbelief, she managed to let out a long breath, and mutter, "Oh no. . . not you again."
* * * * *
Tristan could not believe his luck when he saw Lorelai Gilmore walk through the doors of Chilton on Monday morning. How had he not noticed her before? She was an image of perfection, he had argued with himself, how could you have missed her?
Of course, he hadn't attended Chilton the previous two years because of an illegal act that had caused his father to send him away to military school, or as he fondly liked to call it, his personal demise.
Tristan shook his head as he reasoned with himself. None of this mattered at the moment. What mattered was that his soon-to-be fling was going to happen sooner than he thought now that he had an easier way to communicate with her. He would be able to see her, talk to her, and make it more difficult for her to resist him with each passing day until she finally gave in to him.
He watched intently from the doorway of a classroom as she opened her locker and put her book bag inside. She shook her head, he assumed to get rid of the rain water that had taken its toll and he found himself biting his lip, fighting to maintain control of his body. It would be weeks, maybe even months before he would be able to forget that image. But then again, why would he want to forget it? It was a move straight out of the NC-17 flick he had watched that weekend, he had thought to himself with a smirk.
As she neared closer to him, her books clutched to her chest, Tristan couldn't help himself. He impulsively reached out and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her into the classroom and closing the door behind her, locking it. He distantly heard her books falling to the floor but ignored it and found himself gently moving the strands of matted wet hair away from her face.
Her eyes held the starting emotion of realization. "Oh no, not you again."
"Well, well, well," he started. "Fancy meeting you here. I didn't know you attended Chilton."
Rory grimaced. "Likewise, and I would have preferred to keep it that way."
"You know, you look really hot when you've just been out in the rain," he commented, ignoring her previous statement. "Everything hugs you. . . in all the right places." Pushing himself against her delicately, he heard her gasp softly and her breathing became slightly irregular.
"Y-you're sick," she managed to stutter quietly, trying to gain control of the situation. With the distinct smell of his cologne and his muscular body pressed up against hers, Rory could feel her mind begin to cloud over. His lips ran sensually over her neck as he nipped lightly at the sensitive skin and a thousand tingles rushed from the sensitive nerve endings. She felt like her knees were going to give way at any moment, and for a moment she was grateful that he was pressed against her so tightly, his large hands firmly holding her to him. "What are you doing?" Her voice was barely audible.
"Just tell me to stop, and I will." When he heard no voice of protest (because for some reason, Rory couldn't comprehend what he was saying due to the sensations his breath on her ear was causing), he found his eyes staring longingly at her rosy tinted lips as he licked his own, and slowly began to dip his head towards hers. With his lips just millimeters apart from hers, the shrill sound of the bell brought them both to their senses. Rory was astonished when she felt herself nearly utter a groan of protest.
"See you at lunch," Tristan whispered into her ear, capturing the lobe between his teeth before exiting the classroom with a lingering, obvious glance in her direction. Rory ran her hands through her hair as she waiting for her heart to start beating normally again. Her breath was coming out raggedly as she tried to analyze the feelings that had taken over her. Dean had never made her feel that way before.
Biting her lip, she firmly decided that she would not let Tristan DuGray get to her. He was arrogant and conceited and Rory wanted nothing to do with him. . . and she wouldn't have anything to do with him, because she was strong and determined and she would be damned if a Chilton pretty boy would rid her of that.
As she passed him in the hallway on her way to her class, she felt her pulse quicken when he winked at her before heading in the opposite direction.
'Tristan DuGray,' she thought while sliding into her seat and opening her books. 'You are going to be the death of me.'
* * * * *
What do you think so far? Is it getting too repetitive? Do you like, do you hate, do you want to murder it, marry it? Let me know what you think, because your feedback and opinions are very, very important to me. I love to hear what you think. Thanks again for all the previous reviews, keep 'em coming.
Author's Note: Sorry it took me a while to update this. (A week to me is a while.) I've been somewhat busy with work and sleep and the new Harry Potter book. He's my guilty pleasure, that Harry Potter. Anyways, let me know what you think, and thanks for all of the reviews. They mean the world to me, honestly. So, without further aidu, chapter three.
* * * * *
Rory sighed into her coffee mug as she stared out the window from her comfortable spot at the kitchen table. The unfamiliar sound of thunder rumbled through the house and she shivered, wrapping the soft blanket that was around her waist further around her shoulders as though it would protect her. Unenthusiastically, she popped a piece of her strawberry- watermelon pop-tart into her mouth and frowned. Whoever thought strawberry and watermelon would make a good combination was seriously troubled.
There was a loud crash upstairs and then the accustomed sound of Lorelai stumbling down the stairs. Her grumpy face appeared around the doorway to the kitchen and she scrunched up her features in distaste. "I fell out of the bed," she complained, padding into the kitchen and pouring herself a cup of coffee. She flopped into the chair opposite Rory and sighed. "And since when does it rain in Stars Hollow? It hasn't rained here in like two million years."
Rory smiled at her mother's exaggeration. "Yes, I think it has been at least a million. Rain sucks," she commented as yet another flash of lightening lit up the dark sky. "It feels like midnight or something."
Lorelai agreed. "You'd think they would cancel that fancy prep school of yours because of this weather. I mean. . . one of you could get struck by lightening and die on school grounds and it would be all their fault."
"Or possibly being at the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Drat." Lorelai grunted, taking a long sip of her coffee and stealing a piece of Rory's pop-tart. Before Rory could warn her, Lorelai had spit the remains of the breakfast snack back on the table. "That is possibly the most disgusting thing I have ever tasted."
"And as much as I would love to stay here and stare at the mush that was just in your mouth, I think that's my cue to get to school." Rory stared in disgust as Lorelai shrugged and put the already chewed pop-tart back into her mouth. She shook her head. "I thought it would be better the second time around. Huh. . . I was wrong."
"Appetizing. . ." Rory sighed.
"Speaking of appetizing, have you talked to Tristan lately?"
"Okay, first of all, Tristan is not appetizing. I can't believe you would even put him in the same category as something like coffee or pizza. And second of all, no. Not since Grandma's on Friday, and I don't plan on seeing him ever again, so please. . . drop it," Rory finished with a nod, as though reassuring herself.
Lorelai glanced at her with one eyebrow raised. "Okay, sorry. Jeez, touchy." With a dramatic sigh, she added, "Have fun in hell today."
Rory grabbed her book bag and threw her hair up in a hasty ponytail. "I will, bye." With a final kiss on her mother's cheek, Rory began to sprint towards Luke's for a final cup of coffee.
* * * * *
Rory shielded herself with her latest bus book as the rain pelted down on her while she ran to the front entrance of the school. The thick pages of 'Swann's Way' did little to protect her from the weather's saturation and she found herself drenched from head to toe before she had even set foot in the building.
Rory muttered to herself wishing she had taken Lorelai up on the offer to borrow her yellow duck umbrella. Her mother had been so excited as she opened it in the house to show it off and then swore at the possibility of being cursed forever by the common superstition.
"I am officially hiding in my bed for the next seven years," she had defiantly declared, and then quickly changed her mind when she remembered that Sookie had promised her a cup of peppermint flavored coffee if she made it to work on time that morning.
As Rory walked down the crowded hallway, she could hear her shoes squeaking against the tiled floor and felt the uncomfortable feeling of water soaking through the soles and into her socks. Water droplets formed at the ends of her hair and eventually ran down her neck, creating a constant feeling of something that she imagined to feel like hypothermia.
As she made her way to her locker, she deposited her book bag and took out the books she would need for first period. She shook her hair to rid it of the rain that had collected and ran her long sleeve over her face in effort to dry herself. Sniffing, she pulled the cotton of her navy sweater sleeves over her fingers and clutched her books closely to her chest.
Before she knew what was happening, she felt herself being pulled into an empty classroom, her hair flying in front of her face and her books crashing to the floor. She heard the sound of the door closing, and then the defying sound of it being locked. A gentle hand moved the strands of hair that had been covering her eyes and she found herself looking into a familiar pair of ice blue eyes.
Shaking her head in disbelief, she managed to let out a long breath, and mutter, "Oh no. . . not you again."
* * * * *
Tristan could not believe his luck when he saw Lorelai Gilmore walk through the doors of Chilton on Monday morning. How had he not noticed her before? She was an image of perfection, he had argued with himself, how could you have missed her?
Of course, he hadn't attended Chilton the previous two years because of an illegal act that had caused his father to send him away to military school, or as he fondly liked to call it, his personal demise.
Tristan shook his head as he reasoned with himself. None of this mattered at the moment. What mattered was that his soon-to-be fling was going to happen sooner than he thought now that he had an easier way to communicate with her. He would be able to see her, talk to her, and make it more difficult for her to resist him with each passing day until she finally gave in to him.
He watched intently from the doorway of a classroom as she opened her locker and put her book bag inside. She shook her head, he assumed to get rid of the rain water that had taken its toll and he found himself biting his lip, fighting to maintain control of his body. It would be weeks, maybe even months before he would be able to forget that image. But then again, why would he want to forget it? It was a move straight out of the NC-17 flick he had watched that weekend, he had thought to himself with a smirk.
As she neared closer to him, her books clutched to her chest, Tristan couldn't help himself. He impulsively reached out and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her into the classroom and closing the door behind her, locking it. He distantly heard her books falling to the floor but ignored it and found himself gently moving the strands of matted wet hair away from her face.
Her eyes held the starting emotion of realization. "Oh no, not you again."
"Well, well, well," he started. "Fancy meeting you here. I didn't know you attended Chilton."
Rory grimaced. "Likewise, and I would have preferred to keep it that way."
"You know, you look really hot when you've just been out in the rain," he commented, ignoring her previous statement. "Everything hugs you. . . in all the right places." Pushing himself against her delicately, he heard her gasp softly and her breathing became slightly irregular.
"Y-you're sick," she managed to stutter quietly, trying to gain control of the situation. With the distinct smell of his cologne and his muscular body pressed up against hers, Rory could feel her mind begin to cloud over. His lips ran sensually over her neck as he nipped lightly at the sensitive skin and a thousand tingles rushed from the sensitive nerve endings. She felt like her knees were going to give way at any moment, and for a moment she was grateful that he was pressed against her so tightly, his large hands firmly holding her to him. "What are you doing?" Her voice was barely audible.
"Just tell me to stop, and I will." When he heard no voice of protest (because for some reason, Rory couldn't comprehend what he was saying due to the sensations his breath on her ear was causing), he found his eyes staring longingly at her rosy tinted lips as he licked his own, and slowly began to dip his head towards hers. With his lips just millimeters apart from hers, the shrill sound of the bell brought them both to their senses. Rory was astonished when she felt herself nearly utter a groan of protest.
"See you at lunch," Tristan whispered into her ear, capturing the lobe between his teeth before exiting the classroom with a lingering, obvious glance in her direction. Rory ran her hands through her hair as she waiting for her heart to start beating normally again. Her breath was coming out raggedly as she tried to analyze the feelings that had taken over her. Dean had never made her feel that way before.
Biting her lip, she firmly decided that she would not let Tristan DuGray get to her. He was arrogant and conceited and Rory wanted nothing to do with him. . . and she wouldn't have anything to do with him, because she was strong and determined and she would be damned if a Chilton pretty boy would rid her of that.
As she passed him in the hallway on her way to her class, she felt her pulse quicken when he winked at her before heading in the opposite direction.
'Tristan DuGray,' she thought while sliding into her seat and opening her books. 'You are going to be the death of me.'
* * * * *
What do you think so far? Is it getting too repetitive? Do you like, do you hate, do you want to murder it, marry it? Let me know what you think, because your feedback and opinions are very, very important to me. I love to hear what you think. Thanks again for all the previous reviews, keep 'em coming.