A/N: Alrighty! Here is chapter seven!!! 65 reviews!!!! Wow, thank you guys so much! Keep 'em coming!
I don't own anything pertain to Gilmore Girls nor do I own the song "18 and Life" by Skid Row, which is mentioned in this chapter.
A special thanks to all my regular reviewers!
Enjoy it!
Chapter 7:
Moonlight Shadow
Rory shivered in the cool September evening air. Glancing up, she watched the leaves sway softly in the evening breeze. Soon their green hues would change into a beautiful medley of bright and vivid yellow, orange, and gold. Fall was Rory's second favourite season, next to spring, and she couldn't think of a more perfect autumn evening then this.
Tristan and she were walking along a worn path in a park not far from Pandora's. After the song had finished, each had caught the other staring and both of them had pulled away quickly. They returned to their table but Tristan could feel Rory's discomfort and embarrassment and neither of them could find anything to talk about. Tristan had suggested a walk through a park that he knew well and they had left shortly after ten o'clock.
Now, neither of them spoke as they strolled idly along; Rory could feel herself relax and could sense that feeling of discomfort evaporate.
"It's beautiful here. I can't believe I've never been hear before." This place had a certain feel to it, but Rory couldn't exactly peg it.
"Yeah, it's very...calming." Tristan replied, "I come here to think sometimes."
That was it, the word Rory had been looking for. This park was a break from the normal, hectic lifestyle that most people were used to and Rory loved it for it. "How did you find it?" Rory's curious, journalistic side took over and she couldn't help but wonder.
"Sometimes, I have trouble sleeping," Tristan answered hesitantly. "So I go for jogs at night and I just stumbled upon it. I guess you could say it found me."
Rory noticed the light smile that played on his lips and she felt herself smiling back. She concluded that Tristan was a lot like this place. He had this aura around him; a calm, peaceful, easygoing nature. Rory felt safe and a little more carefree around him. He was a small fragment of serenity in the middle of a mad rush of rules, expectations, and obligations and she was lucky enough to have found him.
Tristan meandered along the path, gently kicking a rock along, watching it bump and tumble along the rough trail. Thinking back on their date, he smiled softly. He knew it sounded cliché, but the evening was a dream come true, it was everything he could ever hope for and more, and it was all because of her. She was like a rare miracle, one exquisite rose among an innumerable company of thorns. And he had found her. Tristan was on cloud nine, he felt invincible; when she smiled at him, he was in heaven, nothing could touch him.
But he quickly found that paradise doesn't last for ever when the question that escaped her lips sent him crashing back down to earth. "You know what I just realized, Tristan? You never told me your last name."
Tristan stared at her, shocked. He hadn't, it was true, but he was hoping that she wouldn't notice, at least for a while. Should he tell her the truth? He wanted to, so badly, but he was terrified. What if she had family in Hartford? What if she had heard about the DuGrey boy who mysteriously disappeared? After he had run away, Tristan had never seen anything on the news or in the paper, it had briefly made him wonder bitterly if his parents had even noticed his absence. Of course, his parents had been vacationing in Morocco during the four months prior to his "departure". They had left without a note or a word and had never called or tried to speak to him; Tristan could feel his anger swell at the thought of the people he had dared to call parents. He forced himself to breathe deeply and tried desperately to ignore that empty feeling inside.
"Come on, be honest now. Are you on the run?" Rory's voice was light and playful. "I finally figure it out! A while ago I saw the FBI's top 10 Most Dangerous Men list - that's why you looked so familiar!" Tristan laughed softly at her antics and that only seemed to fuel her insane babbling. "Specializing in serial grocery theft and attacking poor old ladies, I believe. Number three right? Pray tell, just why, exactly, are you not number one?" Her tone was one of mock disappointment, but her eyes were shining brightly and he could tell that she was trying vainly to keep from smiling.
Rory watched contentedly as he laughed lightly, but a frown replaced her smile when she noticed that his mirth did quite reach his eyes. Instead, the usually bright azure irises were a dark, turbulent sapphire. She wondered what he was thinking about and waited patiently for him to answer.
"DuGrey. My name's Tristan Dugrey." Rory smiled triumphantly, glad that she could weasel it out of him but she missed the light hint hesitation and fear in his voice.
"Dugrey, huh? Hmm...I like it! You have my stamp of approval!" Tristan laughed at that.
"I'm so thankful!" He played along. Brushing a fake tear from his cheek he said, "I've been waiting my whole life to hear you say those words."
Rory laughed and let the charade fade away. She loved these moments of levity with Tristan; she loved the fact that Tristan felt free enough to be dramatic around her, like he trusted her.
"So..." Tristan's voice trailed off.
"So..." Rory mimicked, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. Tristan smiled. What made this girl so different? So captivating? He wanted to know everything about her: her favourite food, what her family's like, where she came from, what she was doing here. His curiosity kicked in and he couldn't help but question her.
"So, do you go to school here? In New Haven, I mean."
"Yeah, I'm in my second year - at Yale." She glanced over to see his eyes wide with shock. "What?" she asked, a little confused.
"Nothing..." his voice trailed off again, but this time his eyes were bright with surprise and amusement. "Well, now I feel kind of stupid."
"Why would you feel stupid?"
"Well, here I am thinking that I know everything there is to know," he joked, "only to find out that I have met my match."
"Your match?" Rory questioned with a beaming smile. She was beginning to love Tristan's playful side.
"Oh, don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about Miss Smarty-pants. What have you got to say for yourself?" There was a mock scowl on his face and Rory erupted into a bout of laughter. Tristan's cheeks coloured slightly in the dim light of the evening as he struggled to keep the feigned look of disappointment on his face.
Rory's laughter ceased and she joined in the act. With a resigned sigh, she lowered her head in shame. "Oh, alright! You've got me, I admit it: I was crowned Miss Smarty-pants 2007-2008. I just... I just didn't want you to know that my idol is Jimmy Neutron and...I really did want world domination- I mean, peace!"
Tristan chuckled jovially and he felt his heartbeat speed up. There's just something about her... "Ahh, so the truth comes out, ladies and gentlemen!" Tristan turned and gestured to an imaginary crowd as they continued on their way. "Her true colours come shinning through!"
They both exploded into laughter, holding their sides and stumbling down the path until tears threatened to fall from their eyes.
"Well,..." Tristan cleared his throat in an effort to control the smile that was tugging at his lips. "That was...educational."
Rory chuckled. "Speaking of education, I never got to finish what I was saying-" But she was cut off, yet again.
"Yes, since you so rudely interrupted yourself."
"Excuse me?! I seemed to recall you stating that you felt stupid. I believe the reason was because I attend Yale - if my memory doesn't fail me."
"It's failing you." Tristan said with a cheeky grin and a subtle fluttering of his eyelashes.
Rory sputtered. This was definitely a new side to Tristan. She was successfully squashing the urge to smile and continued with their playful banter.
"If I recall," Tristan supplied with a self-righteous smirk, "You stopped and said 'what?'"
"Only because you were giving me a look." Rory retorted.
"What look?" Tristan questioned donning an innocent voice and throwing his hands up to support his faultless actions.
"You know, that look." When she received nothing but a questioning face from Tristan she elaborated. "That look that says: 'Well, um, gee, I guess Miss. Wigglesworth was right when she said my brain was smaller than the average pea.'" For the last part Rory adopted a deep, manly, moronic voice in the hopes that it would help get her point across.
"I did no such thing." Tristan continued on with his performance, absolutely loving every minute of it. "And just who, pray tell, is Miss. Wigglesworth?!"
Rory couldn't believe it: Tristan had mocked her! "Did you just mock me?" Rory narrowed her eyes and sent him a death glare, unable to keep the corners of her mouth from curling up.
"Absolutely not."
"I think you did. You just broke Gilmore Rule Number 15, buster: Never impersonate a Gilmore - you're just not good enough."
"Oh, so that's how it going to be?" Tristan laughed at the thought of Rory and Lorelai editing and revising the Gilmore Rules. He'd have to ask her about that one later.
"Yes, that's how it's going to be." Rory eyes were shimmering; she was thoroughly enjoying herself. She never would have thought of Tristan as being so...witty. He was as quick with giving comebacks as she was and he kept her on her toes. It was such a change from that shy, blushing Tristan that she loved just as much.
"Fine then." Tristan crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his nose up in the air. "At least I won."
Rory rolled her eyes, finally allowing the laughter to escape. "You're insufferable."
"If you say so." Tristan mustered up the courage to give her a wink.
Rory's heart nearly stopped when she saw the wink Tristan directed at her. Had he really meant it? Her heart resumed and skipped a beat at that thought but she quickly reasoned with herself. Of course he didn't, he's just playing along. It was amazing that a simple wink could cause this much inner controversy. She needed to find a new topic.
"Anyway," She gave Tristan a pointed look and continued. "I'm studying History and English and, drum roll please, I plan on becoming a journalist."
The mood of the evening had sobered down and Tristan regarded her with fascination and respect. "Wow, that's a great goal." He paused for a moment and asked quietly, "Has it always been your big dream?" Tristan noticed how his voice had subconsciously lowered. He didn't like discussing dreams; it was bittersweet. He hated thinking about how all of his dreams had been shattered by the rough life he had been dealt, but he was happy to know that sometimes, somewhere, for other people, dreams did come true.
"Yeah." Rory answered just as quietly, but her voice held a dreamy, happy tone. "I've always wanted to be a front-page reporter for the New York Times, for as long as I can remember. Maybe I'll make it some day..."
"I hope you will," He smiled encouragingly. "I know you will."
"Thank you." Rory could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. He was so sweet, not to mention adorable, and she wondered how there wasn't a line up of girls waiting to be with him. "What about you? Do you go to school here?"
Tristan looked down at his shoes swarmed with remorse and sadness. He struggled to compose himself and raised his head to give her what he hoped was a cheerful smile. "No, I would have been in my second year, too, but it never happened. I joined the work force instead." He shrugged his shoulders as if it didn't matter, but truthfully he was hoping that the smooth motion would cause all his worries to just slip off his shoulders and fall away to nothing. "I would have liked to go, I think I would have taken a shot at art and history but...things didn't work out that way."
Rory forced a smile but inside her heart was breaking for him. She knew he had tried to hide it again, but she had seen the regret, sorrow, and, what was worse, failure, in his eyes. He looked so weighted down, like the world was on his shoulders. Rory couldn't help but think back to a line from a song that an old band, Skid Row possibly, that Lane had introduced her to: 'He walked the streets a soldier and he fought the world alone...'
"Oh, so you were the runner up for Miss. Smarty-pants." Rory tried to make a gentle joke about it to get him to smile, really smile. And he did, only she could tell it was forced and somewhat tainted.
"Yeah, I never got a chance," Tristan wanted to leave it at that, to tell her the truth but he couldn't. He cleared his throat and continued, "To wear my evening gown."
Rory laughed softly but her smile, like his, didn't quite reach her eyes. She tried to think of something to say, something that would cheer him up and get his mind off what his regrets. She looked around for a topic of interest and, with a gasp, stopped walking when she saw what was ahead of them.
Tristan was lost in his own reverie but he was brought back to the present when he heard a soft gasp escaped her lips. He stopped and glanced back to find her rooted to her spot staring straight ahead at the pond. "Are you okay, Rory?"
Rory snapped back to attention when she heard his question, touched by the genuine concern she heard in his voice and saw written all over his face. The incredibly beautiful sight in front of her had rendered her speechless, as well as motionless.
There was a beautiful little pond, its water looked almost black, covered and changed by a moonlight shadow. The soothing sound of it gently lapping against the shore drifted up to her ears and she found that it was soft, calming, and peaceful. A exquisite variety of trees surrounded it on three sides, the hugged closed to the shoreline and their branches draped down over the waters as if in an eternal effort to touch that tranquil, magical water. A few leaves had fallen early and drifted in the gentle waves like helpless entities that had surrendered to the euphoric atmosphere and enchanting scenery. To top it all off, and to make it seem even more like a fairy tale, there was an old wooden bridge crossing over the water. Rory, quite frankly, was in love with the place.
"Wow." She whispered softly. It was all she could say.
"I hoped you would like it." Tristan smiled at the sight of Rory standing with her mouth hanging open looking like she had just received a 'Free Coffee For Life' certificate. This place really was special; it was where Tristan came to think about things or, sometimes, to avoid thinking about things. He had wanted Rory to see it because he cherished this place like he cherished the thought of her.
Rory had an urge to kick off her shoes and dangle her feet over the edge of the bridge, letting her toes dip into the cool, refreshing water. And she decided to do just that. Without thinking, Rory grabbed Tristan's hand and, overwhelmed by the electricity of his touch, bounded off towards the water.
Tristan was in heaven. When her small hand had slipped in his he couldn't have been happier. They raced along and her luxurious brown hair flew behind her as her laughter rang out as the raced towards the water. Tristan gasped. The water.
He skidded to a halt and, due to their joined hands, Rory jerked to a stop in front of him. She turned to face him, still laughing, and she opened her mouth to scold him but the words died on her lips when she saw his expression. He was staring straight ahead at the water like she had been moments before but his face was deathly pale and his eyes were wide with fear.
"Tristan," She panting voice was full of concern. "What's wrong?"
Tristan forcefully pulled his eyes away from the water and stared at Rory. At the sight of her flushed cheeks and her beautiful, worried blue eyes Tristan felt a wave of reassurance crash over him.
"I...I'm..." Rory watched him stammer and hesitate, her concern growing by the second. Finally, he looked down at his feet and mumbled, "I don't like the water."
"Don't like it?"
"I...I'm afraid of it." Oh. Now Rory understood. He was afraid of water, she knew many people who were, it was a common fear.
"Can you swim?" Rory asked softly, giving him a tiny, encouraging smile. He shook his head vigorously and Rory found that he was still avoiding her eyes. Tentatively, she reached out and placed her free hand under his chin and pushed it up gently, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Hey, it's okay. I understand."
She smiled and squeezed his hand and Tristan realized that her hand was still wrapped around his. "I...I think I could once, when I was little but...something happened, something bad. I don't like to go in there anymore." Rory's heart swelled with sympathy for him, he was standing in front of her, ashamed and afraid, he looked like a lost little boy. It was only natural for people who had had traumatic experiences in water to avoid it completely.
She took a chance, as she always seemed to do around Tristan, and, letting go of his hand, she wrapped her arms around him. Tristan paused a moment before hesitantly wrapping his arms around her tiny waist; Rory could feel his rigid body relax against her and she held him tighter. Tristan buried his face in her silky hair and breathed in the light scent of peaches that surrounded her. This is where he belonged; this is where he felt safe.
Finally, Rory slowly pulled away and for both of them it was too soon. She couldn't exactly explain it but she felt...equal in his arms. It wasn't the romantic word that she would have thought she'd use to describe the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms, but it fit. She showed him as much compassion as he showed her; she knew he needed her as much as she needed him. They could give everything to each other in that simple action without speaking one single word. Rory couldn't help but give into the wave up security that came with being in his gentle embrace and he made her feel like she was cherished above all other things, like she was extraordinary.
After pulling away, she lost all that and was left with only a lingering feeling of loss that made her shiver.
Tristan saw her wrap her arms around herself as she trembled in the cool evening air. "Are you cold?" Without waiting for an answer, Tristan reached up and pulled off his blue, long-sleeved shirt, revealing only a white wifebeater underneath. "Here. Take this, I don't want you to catch a cold." He held it out to her and it hung there, suspended by his hand for several moments.
Rory was shocked and left speechless once again that evening. As his face had been hidden by the shirt that he was tugging over his head, Rory couldn't help but stare at his taunt, muscled stomach as the white shirt he was still clad in drifted up a little. My God! Rory thought, feeling her knees go weak. What mom wouldn't do for a man that had that six-pack! As he finally succeeded in pulling it off his head and was fixing the wifebeater, Rory's eyes roamed up his long, well-muscled arms, his tanned, broad shoulders, his incredible pectorals, and all the way down to his attractive, narrow waist. Yup, a voice that sounded suspiciously like her mother spoke in her head, it's official. HE's a Greek god.
When Rory saw his outstretched hand and the shirt dangling from it, she mentally pinched herself and came down from heaven. She was quite proud to find that she was still capable of forming coherent sentences. "No, I couldn't. Then you'll catch a cold."
Tristan refused to accept that and smiled as he shook his head. "Yes, but it was my idea to come here so I can't let you get sick."
"But I'd actually be my fault for not bringing a jacket." Rory replied stubbornly. "I get sick, my fault."
Apparently he was just as stubborn as she was. "Nope, you get sick, I feel guilty." He smiled again and spoke softly. "Take it. Please."
Rory groaned. She didn't want to take it because she knew that all she would be able to think about was the fact that each part of the shirt that touched her skin had touched him. Talk about torture.
She signed, giving up, and reached out to accept the sweater. "You're as stubborn as me, you cow." A light smile graced both their faces as she tugged the shirt over her head. It was soft and his body heat still lingered on the fabric. Rory lost herself in the strong, soft scent of his cologne; it was spicy, but gentle, a little soapy, and a unique smell that was uniquely him. She pulled the sleeves over her fingers and pulled the neck over her nose, taking a deep breath. "Mmm, you smell good." She commented, watching him blush, smile and whisper a soft thank you.
He reached over and playfully pulled the neck off her nose but his hand came up to lingered in the air beside her face and softly brushed her cheek. Rory stared up at him with wide, excited, fearful eyes not completely sure if she wanted to duck away or grab him and kiss him senseless.
But she waited patiently as he ever so slowly leaned in, his eyes searching her face, and giving her a chance to pull away. But she didn't, she wanted him to kiss her, she wanted to know what it felt like to have his soft lips on hers. He was close now, he reached forward to lightly take hold of the hands that were hanging at her side and when he did he couldn't tell which one of them had sweatier palms.
Rory felt his gentle fingers in her hand and she squeezed them gently. She could feel his warm breath tickle her face and his beautiful eyes slowly drifted shut, the long curly eyelashes sending shadows over his cheek. In a second, his lips would touch hers; she couldn't wait. This is it, Rory thought...
Suddenly, Tristan felt a sharp pain shoot through his head. He stumbled back, pained and frightened by the sudden burst of agony. An involuntary whimper escaped his lips as he doubled over, grasping his aching head between two trembling hands.
Rory saw all this and wondered frantically what was wrong. She reached for him, trying to steady him as he moaned in pain. "Tristan? Tristan, are you all right?"
Tristan didn't answer, he was struggling to regain his composure and at the same time looked around to find the source of the throbbing in his head. He knew exactly who he'd see when he turned to the right and he wasn't shocked at all. The ghost who had stood behind Rory at the café, the ghost who had shot a mug, purposely making it miss his head by a millimeter, the ghost of Rory's dead boyfriend.
Dean.
"Tristan? Tristan, look at me? Come on, I'm going to take you to the hospital." Rory's frenzied words brought Tristan back to the matter at hand. He couldn't go to the hospital? How would he explain this?
"No..." His voice came out weakly but he tried again. "No, Rory, I'm fine."
"I don't think so. We're going to go see a doctor. Can you walk?"
He gently cupped her face with his hands, forcing her to slow down and look him in the eyes. "Rory, this has happened before." He lied. "I'm going to walk you home and then I'll go home to sleep and I'll be as good as new in the morning."
"No, Tristan." She shook her head stubbornly.
"Now who's being as stubborn as a cow?" He forced out a laugh, hoping it would make her believe that he was fine. But he wasn't. His head was throbbing so badly that he thought he would be sick right then and there, but there was no was he was letting her walk through the park and back to her dorm by herself. He would see her safely into the building if it was the last thing he did.
She signed and stared at him intensely for a moment. He tried his best to but on a tired, but comfortable front, luckily, although it made him sad that he could lie to her so easily, she bought it. "Fine. But at least let me walk you home."
"No, the walk to your place will help clear my head. I'll be able to sleep much easier." Finally, she agreed and helped him straighten up and let him lean against her as they started the walk to her dorm. There would be no post-date pleasantries, no kiss good bye. Instead there was a third wheel, a ghost who wanted to hurt him.
Tristan knew why this ghost hated him so much. He had seen Dean before, while he was still alive.
~~~~~~~~~
There it is! I hope it was worth the wait! Please, please review!
So Tristan has met Dean before! What happened during their encounter that makes Dean hate Tristan to this extent? But where, you may ask? Why? Well, I can't tell ya that one...at least, not for a while! Review lots and (maybe) you'll find out!
Oh, don't you just love suspense?!
Love, MAdz
I don't own anything pertain to Gilmore Girls nor do I own the song "18 and Life" by Skid Row, which is mentioned in this chapter.
A special thanks to all my regular reviewers!
Enjoy it!
Chapter 7:
Moonlight Shadow
Rory shivered in the cool September evening air. Glancing up, she watched the leaves sway softly in the evening breeze. Soon their green hues would change into a beautiful medley of bright and vivid yellow, orange, and gold. Fall was Rory's second favourite season, next to spring, and she couldn't think of a more perfect autumn evening then this.
Tristan and she were walking along a worn path in a park not far from Pandora's. After the song had finished, each had caught the other staring and both of them had pulled away quickly. They returned to their table but Tristan could feel Rory's discomfort and embarrassment and neither of them could find anything to talk about. Tristan had suggested a walk through a park that he knew well and they had left shortly after ten o'clock.
Now, neither of them spoke as they strolled idly along; Rory could feel herself relax and could sense that feeling of discomfort evaporate.
"It's beautiful here. I can't believe I've never been hear before." This place had a certain feel to it, but Rory couldn't exactly peg it.
"Yeah, it's very...calming." Tristan replied, "I come here to think sometimes."
That was it, the word Rory had been looking for. This park was a break from the normal, hectic lifestyle that most people were used to and Rory loved it for it. "How did you find it?" Rory's curious, journalistic side took over and she couldn't help but wonder.
"Sometimes, I have trouble sleeping," Tristan answered hesitantly. "So I go for jogs at night and I just stumbled upon it. I guess you could say it found me."
Rory noticed the light smile that played on his lips and she felt herself smiling back. She concluded that Tristan was a lot like this place. He had this aura around him; a calm, peaceful, easygoing nature. Rory felt safe and a little more carefree around him. He was a small fragment of serenity in the middle of a mad rush of rules, expectations, and obligations and she was lucky enough to have found him.
Tristan meandered along the path, gently kicking a rock along, watching it bump and tumble along the rough trail. Thinking back on their date, he smiled softly. He knew it sounded cliché, but the evening was a dream come true, it was everything he could ever hope for and more, and it was all because of her. She was like a rare miracle, one exquisite rose among an innumerable company of thorns. And he had found her. Tristan was on cloud nine, he felt invincible; when she smiled at him, he was in heaven, nothing could touch him.
But he quickly found that paradise doesn't last for ever when the question that escaped her lips sent him crashing back down to earth. "You know what I just realized, Tristan? You never told me your last name."
Tristan stared at her, shocked. He hadn't, it was true, but he was hoping that she wouldn't notice, at least for a while. Should he tell her the truth? He wanted to, so badly, but he was terrified. What if she had family in Hartford? What if she had heard about the DuGrey boy who mysteriously disappeared? After he had run away, Tristan had never seen anything on the news or in the paper, it had briefly made him wonder bitterly if his parents had even noticed his absence. Of course, his parents had been vacationing in Morocco during the four months prior to his "departure". They had left without a note or a word and had never called or tried to speak to him; Tristan could feel his anger swell at the thought of the people he had dared to call parents. He forced himself to breathe deeply and tried desperately to ignore that empty feeling inside.
"Come on, be honest now. Are you on the run?" Rory's voice was light and playful. "I finally figure it out! A while ago I saw the FBI's top 10 Most Dangerous Men list - that's why you looked so familiar!" Tristan laughed softly at her antics and that only seemed to fuel her insane babbling. "Specializing in serial grocery theft and attacking poor old ladies, I believe. Number three right? Pray tell, just why, exactly, are you not number one?" Her tone was one of mock disappointment, but her eyes were shining brightly and he could tell that she was trying vainly to keep from smiling.
Rory watched contentedly as he laughed lightly, but a frown replaced her smile when she noticed that his mirth did quite reach his eyes. Instead, the usually bright azure irises were a dark, turbulent sapphire. She wondered what he was thinking about and waited patiently for him to answer.
"DuGrey. My name's Tristan Dugrey." Rory smiled triumphantly, glad that she could weasel it out of him but she missed the light hint hesitation and fear in his voice.
"Dugrey, huh? Hmm...I like it! You have my stamp of approval!" Tristan laughed at that.
"I'm so thankful!" He played along. Brushing a fake tear from his cheek he said, "I've been waiting my whole life to hear you say those words."
Rory laughed and let the charade fade away. She loved these moments of levity with Tristan; she loved the fact that Tristan felt free enough to be dramatic around her, like he trusted her.
"So..." Tristan's voice trailed off.
"So..." Rory mimicked, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. Tristan smiled. What made this girl so different? So captivating? He wanted to know everything about her: her favourite food, what her family's like, where she came from, what she was doing here. His curiosity kicked in and he couldn't help but question her.
"So, do you go to school here? In New Haven, I mean."
"Yeah, I'm in my second year - at Yale." She glanced over to see his eyes wide with shock. "What?" she asked, a little confused.
"Nothing..." his voice trailed off again, but this time his eyes were bright with surprise and amusement. "Well, now I feel kind of stupid."
"Why would you feel stupid?"
"Well, here I am thinking that I know everything there is to know," he joked, "only to find out that I have met my match."
"Your match?" Rory questioned with a beaming smile. She was beginning to love Tristan's playful side.
"Oh, don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about Miss Smarty-pants. What have you got to say for yourself?" There was a mock scowl on his face and Rory erupted into a bout of laughter. Tristan's cheeks coloured slightly in the dim light of the evening as he struggled to keep the feigned look of disappointment on his face.
Rory's laughter ceased and she joined in the act. With a resigned sigh, she lowered her head in shame. "Oh, alright! You've got me, I admit it: I was crowned Miss Smarty-pants 2007-2008. I just... I just didn't want you to know that my idol is Jimmy Neutron and...I really did want world domination- I mean, peace!"
Tristan chuckled jovially and he felt his heartbeat speed up. There's just something about her... "Ahh, so the truth comes out, ladies and gentlemen!" Tristan turned and gestured to an imaginary crowd as they continued on their way. "Her true colours come shinning through!"
They both exploded into laughter, holding their sides and stumbling down the path until tears threatened to fall from their eyes.
"Well,..." Tristan cleared his throat in an effort to control the smile that was tugging at his lips. "That was...educational."
Rory chuckled. "Speaking of education, I never got to finish what I was saying-" But she was cut off, yet again.
"Yes, since you so rudely interrupted yourself."
"Excuse me?! I seemed to recall you stating that you felt stupid. I believe the reason was because I attend Yale - if my memory doesn't fail me."
"It's failing you." Tristan said with a cheeky grin and a subtle fluttering of his eyelashes.
Rory sputtered. This was definitely a new side to Tristan. She was successfully squashing the urge to smile and continued with their playful banter.
"If I recall," Tristan supplied with a self-righteous smirk, "You stopped and said 'what?'"
"Only because you were giving me a look." Rory retorted.
"What look?" Tristan questioned donning an innocent voice and throwing his hands up to support his faultless actions.
"You know, that look." When she received nothing but a questioning face from Tristan she elaborated. "That look that says: 'Well, um, gee, I guess Miss. Wigglesworth was right when she said my brain was smaller than the average pea.'" For the last part Rory adopted a deep, manly, moronic voice in the hopes that it would help get her point across.
"I did no such thing." Tristan continued on with his performance, absolutely loving every minute of it. "And just who, pray tell, is Miss. Wigglesworth?!"
Rory couldn't believe it: Tristan had mocked her! "Did you just mock me?" Rory narrowed her eyes and sent him a death glare, unable to keep the corners of her mouth from curling up.
"Absolutely not."
"I think you did. You just broke Gilmore Rule Number 15, buster: Never impersonate a Gilmore - you're just not good enough."
"Oh, so that's how it going to be?" Tristan laughed at the thought of Rory and Lorelai editing and revising the Gilmore Rules. He'd have to ask her about that one later.
"Yes, that's how it's going to be." Rory eyes were shimmering; she was thoroughly enjoying herself. She never would have thought of Tristan as being so...witty. He was as quick with giving comebacks as she was and he kept her on her toes. It was such a change from that shy, blushing Tristan that she loved just as much.
"Fine then." Tristan crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his nose up in the air. "At least I won."
Rory rolled her eyes, finally allowing the laughter to escape. "You're insufferable."
"If you say so." Tristan mustered up the courage to give her a wink.
Rory's heart nearly stopped when she saw the wink Tristan directed at her. Had he really meant it? Her heart resumed and skipped a beat at that thought but she quickly reasoned with herself. Of course he didn't, he's just playing along. It was amazing that a simple wink could cause this much inner controversy. She needed to find a new topic.
"Anyway," She gave Tristan a pointed look and continued. "I'm studying History and English and, drum roll please, I plan on becoming a journalist."
The mood of the evening had sobered down and Tristan regarded her with fascination and respect. "Wow, that's a great goal." He paused for a moment and asked quietly, "Has it always been your big dream?" Tristan noticed how his voice had subconsciously lowered. He didn't like discussing dreams; it was bittersweet. He hated thinking about how all of his dreams had been shattered by the rough life he had been dealt, but he was happy to know that sometimes, somewhere, for other people, dreams did come true.
"Yeah." Rory answered just as quietly, but her voice held a dreamy, happy tone. "I've always wanted to be a front-page reporter for the New York Times, for as long as I can remember. Maybe I'll make it some day..."
"I hope you will," He smiled encouragingly. "I know you will."
"Thank you." Rory could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. He was so sweet, not to mention adorable, and she wondered how there wasn't a line up of girls waiting to be with him. "What about you? Do you go to school here?"
Tristan looked down at his shoes swarmed with remorse and sadness. He struggled to compose himself and raised his head to give her what he hoped was a cheerful smile. "No, I would have been in my second year, too, but it never happened. I joined the work force instead." He shrugged his shoulders as if it didn't matter, but truthfully he was hoping that the smooth motion would cause all his worries to just slip off his shoulders and fall away to nothing. "I would have liked to go, I think I would have taken a shot at art and history but...things didn't work out that way."
Rory forced a smile but inside her heart was breaking for him. She knew he had tried to hide it again, but she had seen the regret, sorrow, and, what was worse, failure, in his eyes. He looked so weighted down, like the world was on his shoulders. Rory couldn't help but think back to a line from a song that an old band, Skid Row possibly, that Lane had introduced her to: 'He walked the streets a soldier and he fought the world alone...'
"Oh, so you were the runner up for Miss. Smarty-pants." Rory tried to make a gentle joke about it to get him to smile, really smile. And he did, only she could tell it was forced and somewhat tainted.
"Yeah, I never got a chance," Tristan wanted to leave it at that, to tell her the truth but he couldn't. He cleared his throat and continued, "To wear my evening gown."
Rory laughed softly but her smile, like his, didn't quite reach her eyes. She tried to think of something to say, something that would cheer him up and get his mind off what his regrets. She looked around for a topic of interest and, with a gasp, stopped walking when she saw what was ahead of them.
Tristan was lost in his own reverie but he was brought back to the present when he heard a soft gasp escaped her lips. He stopped and glanced back to find her rooted to her spot staring straight ahead at the pond. "Are you okay, Rory?"
Rory snapped back to attention when she heard his question, touched by the genuine concern she heard in his voice and saw written all over his face. The incredibly beautiful sight in front of her had rendered her speechless, as well as motionless.
There was a beautiful little pond, its water looked almost black, covered and changed by a moonlight shadow. The soothing sound of it gently lapping against the shore drifted up to her ears and she found that it was soft, calming, and peaceful. A exquisite variety of trees surrounded it on three sides, the hugged closed to the shoreline and their branches draped down over the waters as if in an eternal effort to touch that tranquil, magical water. A few leaves had fallen early and drifted in the gentle waves like helpless entities that had surrendered to the euphoric atmosphere and enchanting scenery. To top it all off, and to make it seem even more like a fairy tale, there was an old wooden bridge crossing over the water. Rory, quite frankly, was in love with the place.
"Wow." She whispered softly. It was all she could say.
"I hoped you would like it." Tristan smiled at the sight of Rory standing with her mouth hanging open looking like she had just received a 'Free Coffee For Life' certificate. This place really was special; it was where Tristan came to think about things or, sometimes, to avoid thinking about things. He had wanted Rory to see it because he cherished this place like he cherished the thought of her.
Rory had an urge to kick off her shoes and dangle her feet over the edge of the bridge, letting her toes dip into the cool, refreshing water. And she decided to do just that. Without thinking, Rory grabbed Tristan's hand and, overwhelmed by the electricity of his touch, bounded off towards the water.
Tristan was in heaven. When her small hand had slipped in his he couldn't have been happier. They raced along and her luxurious brown hair flew behind her as her laughter rang out as the raced towards the water. Tristan gasped. The water.
He skidded to a halt and, due to their joined hands, Rory jerked to a stop in front of him. She turned to face him, still laughing, and she opened her mouth to scold him but the words died on her lips when she saw his expression. He was staring straight ahead at the water like she had been moments before but his face was deathly pale and his eyes were wide with fear.
"Tristan," She panting voice was full of concern. "What's wrong?"
Tristan forcefully pulled his eyes away from the water and stared at Rory. At the sight of her flushed cheeks and her beautiful, worried blue eyes Tristan felt a wave of reassurance crash over him.
"I...I'm..." Rory watched him stammer and hesitate, her concern growing by the second. Finally, he looked down at his feet and mumbled, "I don't like the water."
"Don't like it?"
"I...I'm afraid of it." Oh. Now Rory understood. He was afraid of water, she knew many people who were, it was a common fear.
"Can you swim?" Rory asked softly, giving him a tiny, encouraging smile. He shook his head vigorously and Rory found that he was still avoiding her eyes. Tentatively, she reached out and placed her free hand under his chin and pushed it up gently, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Hey, it's okay. I understand."
She smiled and squeezed his hand and Tristan realized that her hand was still wrapped around his. "I...I think I could once, when I was little but...something happened, something bad. I don't like to go in there anymore." Rory's heart swelled with sympathy for him, he was standing in front of her, ashamed and afraid, he looked like a lost little boy. It was only natural for people who had had traumatic experiences in water to avoid it completely.
She took a chance, as she always seemed to do around Tristan, and, letting go of his hand, she wrapped her arms around him. Tristan paused a moment before hesitantly wrapping his arms around her tiny waist; Rory could feel his rigid body relax against her and she held him tighter. Tristan buried his face in her silky hair and breathed in the light scent of peaches that surrounded her. This is where he belonged; this is where he felt safe.
Finally, Rory slowly pulled away and for both of them it was too soon. She couldn't exactly explain it but she felt...equal in his arms. It wasn't the romantic word that she would have thought she'd use to describe the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms, but it fit. She showed him as much compassion as he showed her; she knew he needed her as much as she needed him. They could give everything to each other in that simple action without speaking one single word. Rory couldn't help but give into the wave up security that came with being in his gentle embrace and he made her feel like she was cherished above all other things, like she was extraordinary.
After pulling away, she lost all that and was left with only a lingering feeling of loss that made her shiver.
Tristan saw her wrap her arms around herself as she trembled in the cool evening air. "Are you cold?" Without waiting for an answer, Tristan reached up and pulled off his blue, long-sleeved shirt, revealing only a white wifebeater underneath. "Here. Take this, I don't want you to catch a cold." He held it out to her and it hung there, suspended by his hand for several moments.
Rory was shocked and left speechless once again that evening. As his face had been hidden by the shirt that he was tugging over his head, Rory couldn't help but stare at his taunt, muscled stomach as the white shirt he was still clad in drifted up a little. My God! Rory thought, feeling her knees go weak. What mom wouldn't do for a man that had that six-pack! As he finally succeeded in pulling it off his head and was fixing the wifebeater, Rory's eyes roamed up his long, well-muscled arms, his tanned, broad shoulders, his incredible pectorals, and all the way down to his attractive, narrow waist. Yup, a voice that sounded suspiciously like her mother spoke in her head, it's official. HE's a Greek god.
When Rory saw his outstretched hand and the shirt dangling from it, she mentally pinched herself and came down from heaven. She was quite proud to find that she was still capable of forming coherent sentences. "No, I couldn't. Then you'll catch a cold."
Tristan refused to accept that and smiled as he shook his head. "Yes, but it was my idea to come here so I can't let you get sick."
"But I'd actually be my fault for not bringing a jacket." Rory replied stubbornly. "I get sick, my fault."
Apparently he was just as stubborn as she was. "Nope, you get sick, I feel guilty." He smiled again and spoke softly. "Take it. Please."
Rory groaned. She didn't want to take it because she knew that all she would be able to think about was the fact that each part of the shirt that touched her skin had touched him. Talk about torture.
She signed, giving up, and reached out to accept the sweater. "You're as stubborn as me, you cow." A light smile graced both their faces as she tugged the shirt over her head. It was soft and his body heat still lingered on the fabric. Rory lost herself in the strong, soft scent of his cologne; it was spicy, but gentle, a little soapy, and a unique smell that was uniquely him. She pulled the sleeves over her fingers and pulled the neck over her nose, taking a deep breath. "Mmm, you smell good." She commented, watching him blush, smile and whisper a soft thank you.
He reached over and playfully pulled the neck off her nose but his hand came up to lingered in the air beside her face and softly brushed her cheek. Rory stared up at him with wide, excited, fearful eyes not completely sure if she wanted to duck away or grab him and kiss him senseless.
But she waited patiently as he ever so slowly leaned in, his eyes searching her face, and giving her a chance to pull away. But she didn't, she wanted him to kiss her, she wanted to know what it felt like to have his soft lips on hers. He was close now, he reached forward to lightly take hold of the hands that were hanging at her side and when he did he couldn't tell which one of them had sweatier palms.
Rory felt his gentle fingers in her hand and she squeezed them gently. She could feel his warm breath tickle her face and his beautiful eyes slowly drifted shut, the long curly eyelashes sending shadows over his cheek. In a second, his lips would touch hers; she couldn't wait. This is it, Rory thought...
Suddenly, Tristan felt a sharp pain shoot through his head. He stumbled back, pained and frightened by the sudden burst of agony. An involuntary whimper escaped his lips as he doubled over, grasping his aching head between two trembling hands.
Rory saw all this and wondered frantically what was wrong. She reached for him, trying to steady him as he moaned in pain. "Tristan? Tristan, are you all right?"
Tristan didn't answer, he was struggling to regain his composure and at the same time looked around to find the source of the throbbing in his head. He knew exactly who he'd see when he turned to the right and he wasn't shocked at all. The ghost who had stood behind Rory at the café, the ghost who had shot a mug, purposely making it miss his head by a millimeter, the ghost of Rory's dead boyfriend.
Dean.
"Tristan? Tristan, look at me? Come on, I'm going to take you to the hospital." Rory's frenzied words brought Tristan back to the matter at hand. He couldn't go to the hospital? How would he explain this?
"No..." His voice came out weakly but he tried again. "No, Rory, I'm fine."
"I don't think so. We're going to go see a doctor. Can you walk?"
He gently cupped her face with his hands, forcing her to slow down and look him in the eyes. "Rory, this has happened before." He lied. "I'm going to walk you home and then I'll go home to sleep and I'll be as good as new in the morning."
"No, Tristan." She shook her head stubbornly.
"Now who's being as stubborn as a cow?" He forced out a laugh, hoping it would make her believe that he was fine. But he wasn't. His head was throbbing so badly that he thought he would be sick right then and there, but there was no was he was letting her walk through the park and back to her dorm by herself. He would see her safely into the building if it was the last thing he did.
She signed and stared at him intensely for a moment. He tried his best to but on a tired, but comfortable front, luckily, although it made him sad that he could lie to her so easily, she bought it. "Fine. But at least let me walk you home."
"No, the walk to your place will help clear my head. I'll be able to sleep much easier." Finally, she agreed and helped him straighten up and let him lean against her as they started the walk to her dorm. There would be no post-date pleasantries, no kiss good bye. Instead there was a third wheel, a ghost who wanted to hurt him.
Tristan knew why this ghost hated him so much. He had seen Dean before, while he was still alive.
~~~~~~~~~
There it is! I hope it was worth the wait! Please, please review!
So Tristan has met Dean before! What happened during their encounter that makes Dean hate Tristan to this extent? But where, you may ask? Why? Well, I can't tell ya that one...at least, not for a while! Review lots and (maybe) you'll find out!
Oh, don't you just love suspense?!
Love, MAdz