A Lack of Color
by four51
Chapter 5. Passenger Seat
I picked at the left-over Chinese food. Putting it to my nose, I decided that it needed to be put in the trash.
I tossed the rest of the contents of my refrigerator.
I then picked up a cleaning product and sprayed it down. Taking a paper towel, I wiped it down, making sure it was thoroughly clean.
I heard the front door open and close.
"Rory, what the hell are you doing?"
I didn't take my head out of my refrigerator. "What does it look like I'm doing?"
"Smartass."
I sat back. "I'm cleaning my kitchen. After, I plan to clean my bedroom. Then I'd probably move on to the living room," I said quietly.
Morning sunshine seeped through the windows. She looked bright.
"Rory," she sat next to me on the floor, "you should be in bed."
"I'm fine."
"Rory…"
"Jen…"
"I'm worried." It was only a few days after the 'setting of the date' celebration.
"I'm fine," I said with a slightly warning tone.
"Rory, you're not. Look at you. You're – "
I stood up, hastily. "I told you I'm okay, Jen. What else do you want? You want me to pity myself? God. I'm fine."
"I want you to face this." She stood as well.
"I am."
"No, you're not. You're taking it out on your apartment. This isn't healthy."
"Jen! Would you please be quiet? This is the way I'm choosing to deal with it, okay? It doesn't help with you shoving it in my face!" I breathed deeply, calming down. "Yes," I shrugged, "I'm hurt. Immensely. But there's nothing I can do about it." I looked into her eyes. "Nothing. Please stop."
She nodded.
I went to working on the freezer.
After a moment, she asked, "You need help?" I knew she meant with both my heartbreak and my kitchen.
I looked at her, and then shook my head.
"I have it covered. It's my mess," I said, answering both of the double-meaning.
She nodded again. "I'll come by later."
"Okay."
I heard her see herself out.
I swallowed and sat down, looking at the task ahead of me.
Sticky, frozen something fixed onto the door.
Icicles hung from the shelves.
And with all of this, I asked myself if it was worth it – cleaning.
Then, I thought to myself:
Even with his girlfriend – excuse me, fiancée – and his annoying nose-grunts, and snoring…
Even with his gross big-toe-nail (that was bruised because of a stubbing on my coffee table, and I could hardly look at now), his darker roots, his beard-stubble…
Even with his attached earlobes, his obsession with keeping clean, his hair between his eyebrows (not yet a uni-brow, though, because he never lets it get that bad)…
Was it worth it?
I laid down on the kitchen floor, exhausted with just thinking.
Yes.
It was all worth it.
I closed my eyes.
I don't know how long I was down there. It could have been seconds, minutes, hours…
All I know is that I awoke to his presence. He was standing over me.
It was getting dark outside.
He cocked his head. "You want to go for a ride?"
I furrowed my eyebrows, thinking for a second. "Yeah," I whispered.
He took my hand, pulled me up, and walked me out.
I don't know why I said yes.
Maybe I'm under a spell, like one of Cupid.
It would make sense on how he wouldn't have such strong feelings back.
Cupid only strikes once and that person is the one usually getting hurt.
I took a deep breath before entering his car.
It smelled of him.
He looked at me curiously.
I mirrored it.
He started the car.
I buckled up.
He exited the parking spot and started on our journey.
Our journey to nowhere.
Our journey to everywhere.
All we needed was right with us.
All we hated, we left.
"Do you like Thai?" I asked.
He made a disgusted face.
I smiled.
"Why?"
"Just wondering," I said, looking down.
"How about you?"
"Are you kidding? It's the most horrible food in the world. I don't understand how anyone could live in that country."
He laughed.
"What's your favorite food, then?"
He looked at me. "Mexican," he answered.
"Oh."
"I'm also loving Italian at the moment, though."
He was smiling.
My face brightened. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. You want some?"
"Which restaurant?"
"I was thinking Babbo, Po, or…" he paused, looking over at me, "L'Impero."
I looked incredulously at him. "You just ate there, Tristan. Just a few nights ago."
He shrugged. "You didn't."
I looked in my lap, almost bursting.
I sniffled by accident.
He automatically took my hand. "Hey, what's wrong?"
I looked out the window, not wanting him to see. "Nothing. It's nothing."
He put his hand to my cheek and lightly forced me to look at him. "What is it?"
I searched his eyes, wondering whether I should say anything. "You're so good to me."
He smiled.
I wiped my eyes and nose and shook back my hair. "Let's eat," I smiled back at him.
I walked into the restaurant and it was so pretty.
I noticed the perfect white linens and yellow lighting.
The romantic candlelight and the beautiful artwork.
He went out of his way (and his wallet) to bring me here.
Tristan pulled out my chair, waited for me to sit in it, and scooted it forward.
What a perfect gentleman.
We ordered wine and sat back.
What do I say?
He's just looking at me, and I can hardly contain myself.
So I decide.
"I broke up with Oliver. I don't know if I told you yet."
He nodded. "Jen mentioned something along those lines."
I looked away from his twinkling eyes.
"Why'd you do it?"
I searched him, wondering, not wanting to make it too obvious. "You made sense to me."
He nodded. "So you broke up with him because of me?"
He didn't know how true he was.
"Yeah," I whispered.
"I didn't know much about him. Other than he was a jerk."
I sighed. "He'd commandeer my apartment for the day, his house being too noisy because of neighbors or parties and stuff. He'd tell me when to get back to my own room. That's one of the things I've always hated."
"That's… lame."
I laughed. "Yeah. It really was."
He smiled. That gorgeous smile.
We ordered.
"Why are you going out with Michelle?" I tried to not sound disgusted by her name. I can't say that it worked all too well. But he dismissed it.
"I don't know, really." He shrugged. My heart lunged. "I've been going out with her for a long time. I can't think of not being with her."
"There's never been anyone else that you've been attracted to?" Okay. Maybe I was crossing the line here.
He was quiet, as if debating whether to tell me. "Well, there is… was… is," he took a deep breath, "someone." He shrugged. "I feel really guilty, actually."
I learned my lesson on assuming a half a week ago.
I just nod. "Want to talk about it?"
He shook his head. Then appearing to change his mind, he said "She's shaken up my world. Making me question everything. I stay awake at night just thinking about what I should do." He paused. "What should I do?"
I shrugged. "Which one do you like more?"
He sighed and looked down, thinking hard. "I love this other girl's personality. She's a really good person and we just mesh well together."
I took a deep breath. "But…?"
"But I've known Michelle for so long. I don't think I could do that to her."
I nodded. "Keep doing what you're doing and see how it turns out. Just make it soon. It's not fun being strung along."
I really tried to not think it was me.
Like, really.
It was hard, but it worked, for the most part.
I just kept reminding myself that it wasn't me.
When we finished eating (the most wonderful Italian I've ever eaten), we went back in the car and went on driving again.
I turned on the radio.
"Harbor" by Vienna Teng filled the background.
I closed my eyes and allowed myself to get caught in the music, leaning my head back.
"I took eight years of piano lessons," he informed me.
My eyes flew open, gaping at him. I smiled. "That's hot," I said, in my best Paris Hilton voice.
He smiled back. "Yeah?"
I nodded. "Definitely. My heart melts whenever I hear somebody playing nicely."
I could see him blush lightly. "I'll have to play for you sometime, then."
I mirrored his blush. "Yes, you will."
I'm falling…
For Tristan.
I let my eyes shut as Corinne Bailey Rae's "Like a Star" filled the speakers. Just the right mood. It was playing for me.
"So, why were you on the floor?" he asked, referring to earlier today.
I shrugged, keeping my eyes closed. "Bad day."
"Me too."
"Want to talk about it?"
"Not in particular. You make me forget. I'll keep it like that."
I smiled slightly, to assure him that I appreciated his feelings toward me.
"You're my best friend," he whispered. I hardly heard him over the song.
I took his hand, looking at him. "You've been right behind Jen for a long time."
He smiled big at me.
He parked at a cliff and put down the top of the convertible car. He left the music on.
He started standing on his seat.
"What are you doing?" I asked, curiously.
"I'm going to go into the backseat. It's more comfortable. You can join me, if you'd like."
Like I'd ever give up the opportunity.
I sat next to him
We tried to get comfortable and ended with my head on his shoulder and both his arms around me. My hand was on his chest and we were both looking up.
"I'm Safer on an Airplane" came on the radio by Copeland.
"This is nice," I stated.
I felt him nod. "It is."
I forgot he had a fiancée for a moment.
Just a moment.
And kissed his chest.
And then I remembered.
Because his whole body tensed up, and he dropped the arm that was around my front.
I apologized softly.
He told me it was okay.
The Fray's "Trust Me" came on.
I looked up at him and his eyes were closed.
I love his sleeping form.
He's peaceful. Nothing's bothering him. He's lovely.
Tristan's eyes opened and he saw me staring. "What?" he asked, embarrassed.
"Nothing," I smiled and looked back at the sky. "Nothing at all."
"No, tell me," he complained.
I looked up at him. We were so close.
An inch apart – at the most.
I didn't know what to do.
What should I have done? Seriously.
It's his move.
And he made it.
He went past me, on the inside, and nuzzled my ear.
Not quite what I was expecting, but still enough to send me shivers.
"Are you cold?" he went back to his original position and pulled me tighter against his body.
Great. Just what I needed.
"I'm good now," I told him.
He mumbled something.
"What?" I asked, partially knowing what he had said.
"Nothing. I didn't say anything."
I didn't know for sure, but I had an idea.
I think he said 'The death of me…'
I wondered what this meant for the next couple of minutes.
"Are you okay?" he asked me.
I scooted closer to him, if it was even possible.
I know. He has a girlfriend. Fiancée.
How could I let myself do this?
I was practically the other woman.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Why do I have to like the one man that's taken?
This always happens.
I know. I should just stop now. But I couldn't.
I was already here.
I was already doing this.
The deed was practically done. All we had to do was actually do it.
I looked deeper into his eyes.
He wouldn't do that. He was too faithful.
Then again, I never thought I'd be in his arms in the middle of nowhere – just me and him.
Anything could happen, and nobody would know.
I wondered what he was thinking.
The same thing? Oh my god, what if it was something different?
What if he was wishing this would just end?
Maybe I should just sit upright and give him space.
That would be the moral thing to do.
But his eyes…
I was already fixed. He had me. I was trapped.
In my book, this is where I was meant to be.
I couldn't fight it.
It wasn't my fault.
You have to believe me – it wasn't my fault.
We just sat there, looking at each other, a few centimeters away.
He could have had me right there.
I was right there.
I would have done anything he wanted.
Apparently, he didn't want it.
Because he cleared his throat and started to get untangled from me.
"We'd better go," he said, simply.
"Yeah." Yeah, right.
He climbed up front first, and then I did.
We exchanged smiles all the way home.
We also did that stupid little game.
You know the one.
Where one person looks at the other, and when the other person looks back at them, they turn their head, acting like they weren't looking at them, and then when they look back, noticing the other person was still staring at them, the other person looks back and acts like they weren't looking.
Vicious circle.
So that's what happened.
We didn't talk.
But we were saying everything that needed to be said.
I know I probably sound out of it right now.
But that's where we needed to be.
Our questions were answered with just one glance.
Except, of course, the main one that was racing through my mind.
The one that I've asked myself ever since I had this stupid little thing for him.
The one that haunted me whenever I was near him.
When we got to the apartment, I noticed it was already one o'clock in the morning.
We laughed.
"Tristan, I have work in the morning!"
"Sucks for you," he joked.
We took the elevator up to our floor.
"Thank you for a wonderful evening, Rory," he said, only slightly serious.
"You're such a sap." I swatted him on the arm. We walked out and to our apartments.
"I was trying to be kind, but if you want me to tell the truth…" he joked.
I gasped. "And then what would you say?!"
He advanced to me, making me back up to the wall.
I could feel his breath on my neck.
He could have had me again here.
Tristan went up to my ear and said huskily, "That you were the best date I've ever had."
I couldn't help but blush.
Wait, date?
Did he say date?
"Goodnight, Rory," he said as he took a step backward and quickly disappeared into his room.
I walked on air into my own.
And then I landed hard into the reality of the world.
"Oh my god," I said to myself aloud, "I'm in love with Tristan DuGrey."
A/N: Uh, oh. What's she going to do? So, what'd you guys think? Too fast? I'd like to thank a couple of reviewers, that have made many of my days during this fic. LVRofTristan, for one, you are always my favorite to read. You say the sweetest things, and I just appreciate it. Also, the anonymous "Christie" that reviewed last chapter. Thank you so much! You just made me smile for like, the whole night. I really appreciate it. I'm doing so good with this story, length-wise. Every chapter is at least ten pages. Anyways, please review! You did so great last chapter! Thanks.