Loneliness. It is a word he's becoming more and more familiar with every minute. One could say he should have become one with being alone in his years of playing the grumpy diner owner, living alone in what Lorelai called his 'dark cave' above the diner. But that was life for him, until Lorelai, it was just something he was used to, it didn't seem he could ever want anything more. In the months after their latest breakup, he had been so full of anger and wrath at Lorelai for her betrayal combined with a small amount of guilt that he had driven her to doubt his love. It had filled his life, keeping him from realizing what he had lost. But since yesterday morning, it had all become clear to him.
The moment that Rory had driven off with Gabriel in her backseat, having been given the job of go-between in the long distance feud between Dawn and the Danes', his life had immediately seemed empty. Since the moment that the phone rang that cold December day just a few short months ago, he had done little other than think of Gabriel. Wishing to see his nephew again. Wanting to take care of his nephew. Searching for a lawyer and a bride. Holding him when he cried and playing with him until he smiled. And as that small silver car pulled out of the driveway, everything important in his life tucked inside, he could feel nothing more than emptiness.
This entire day he could think of nothing than that he was alone. In the morning, he had woken up in the large bed he had once shared with Lorelai in his apartment, going as far as to buy her a TV to keep her there, wanting nothing more than to go about his normal routine. He wanted to climb the stairs in their house, check on his sleeping baby, walk into her bedroom and let himself gaze at her sleeping form, her hair flowing all around her, a peaceful look on her face as she drifted among clouds of sleep. He wanted to shower and go downstairs to make them breakfast, remembering to make her coffee extra strong, and wait for her to breeze into the kitchen, the boy's body wrapped against her in her pink afghan, a flirtatious and yet sleepy smile on her face.
Instead he was forced to go about his day as if he lived alone, as if he had never had Lorelai in his life, as if he was the only person that mattered. He had woken up in the empty apartment that was void of any sense of her light. After getting ready for work, he had opened the diner and went about his morning, but she had never come. Without realizing it, he had actually been waiting and hoping she would come, that she would feel her life was also vacant without him and search out the diner, if only for a cup of coffee and a nod from him. As he went throughout his day, his thoughts drifted more and more to her, at one point almost thinking he had seen her sitting at her usual stool but it was only a mirage, it was only his mind playing tricks on him, and his life felt even more vacant than before.
Suddenly, as he's wiping down the counter after the dinner rush, it comes to him. In all the time since Rory drove away, he had thought only of Lorelai. Sure, he misses Gabriel, but he knows that the boy will be back home tomorrow. But she's here. She's in the town. She's at the inn. She's in their house. She's not more than a minute or so away. And she's not here here.
In the days since Liz's death, she had always been there. If he had ever been sad or depressed, she had been there, holding him, brushing her hands over his face and arms, loving him even with no response from him. She had rejoiced in his happiness and calmed him when he was angry. But now, no matter how he felt, or what he was going through, she wouldn't be there. And she was all he needed.
Lincoln had said that the soldiers slain in the battle of Gettysburg had offered their lives as the last full measure of devotion to their country. For Luke, all that Lorelai had given up was her pride, her independence, and her name as her own last attempt to convince him of her loyalty. It was everything that was important to her, everything she had ever staked her reputation on. It was all she could do. Lincoln had said the soldiers' sacrifice should not go in vain. Though a sacrifice on a much different scale, hers had been just as great, just as loyal, and in truth, it had not proved futile.
She had made a mistake and had done everything in her power in the past few months to prove it was only a mistake, that she was just as committed to him as she had been before, maybe more so. When he had no one to turn to, she had showed up. She had gone to New York with him, letting him use her for support and a shoulder to cry on when he felt he had nothing left. After he had pushed her away, she had stubbornly refused to let him wallow alone, for which he was grateful. To his marriage proposal, she had said yes, even with his unvoiced stance that the marriage would be in name only. She had given him so much, her daily life to take care of his nephew, her home to make their marriage more believable, and, most importantly, her independence that had been her strongest follower throughout her life.
He saw all of this and, in truth, he was in awe. And now that he had realized this, he just had to let her know. "Caesar! I'm out for the night! Close up!" Luke shouted as he dropped the sponge back on the counter and headed out the door. He had held her at a distance for nine months, even after she had tried to convince him that she was sorry in words and actions. Well that ended now.
It had been another long day at the inn. Two days of nothing but little annoyances or one big annoyance also known as Michel. But there was nothing she could do about it. She loved this inn, she had basically created it with her bare hands and a little bit of money from Luke. The daily work was nothing but pleasure, helping people, giving them a little place to stay that was far away from their busy lives at home, something that she had searched out at the tender age of seventeen. However today, it was nothing but draining, she felt every bone in her body ache. Though she had gone to sleep early the night before, she was tired beyond belief. She felt she was dragging herself through the day, looking forward to nothing but going home to her now empty house and throwing herself into bed in the hopes that everything would be better when Gabriel came home tomorrow.
Even the snow falling from the sky as she gets out of her car does little to improve her mood. She just can't seem to get out of this funk. She misses Gabriel. She misses waking up in the morning and holding him against her, his sweet baby soft skin, his lovely baby smell, his small baby fingers holding tight to her. And she misses Luke. In the same town, in the same winter wonderland, she misses him. She's gotten used to having him around, making coffee in the morning, fixing dinner at night, watching some crazy sports game between two teams she'd never be able to name on the television at night. She yearns for the nights she spent, crouched on the stairs, watching him sleep, hearing his soft breathing mixed with deep snoring, wondering if he's dreaming of her.
She sighs as she walks up the steps to her house, closing the door behind her. Slowly she takes off her coat, hanging it on the coat rack, and runs her fingers once again through her hair. Stepping into the living room, she glances around. Everything is exactly the way it was when she left this morning, but there's something off, she can feel it. There's an energy in the house. Not in this room. It's not the feeling she gets when Rory comes home unexpectedly and sleeps in her bedroom. It's not Rory who is here. Suddenly, she knows where it coming from.
Slipping out of her heels, she runs up the stairs, taking them two at a time and pauses in the doorway to the nursery. Instantly her eyes tell her that she was right, of course she was, she knows him. Stepping inside the room, leaning back against the wall next to the doorway, she stares at him in the dark. He stands by the crib, his hands grasping the side, leaning forward into it, his head down. She wonders how long he's been there and she wonders if she should alert him to her presence and she wonders why he's come. Does he miss Gabriel that much?
"With or without Gabriel, I just want to be with you," Luke says in a deep throaty voice and her breath catches in her throat. He slowly turns his head to look over at her, taking in her wordless response. Her lips are parted, her eyes clear pools of wonder. She must have noticed that her mouth is open and slowly closes it and he can see her chin tremble in the process, alerting him to the fact that she is close to tears.
Within seconds, he's standing in front of her, his hand reaching out to lightly grasp her elbow. Her eyes flow about aimlessly, as if she's not really looking at anything in particular, as if she's actually hearing his words over and over and trying to digest them, perceive their true meaning. Finally, she lifts her gaze to his and a tear drifts down her cheek. She looks so heartbreakingly beautiful at this moment that he can do little but lower his lips to brush against hers, pressing them against hers in a soft but bittersweet kiss. As he pulls back, he can see that a few more tears have escaped from the corners of her eyes. Reaching up, he cups her face in his hands, brushing away her tears with his thumbs. "I forgive you," he tells her, watching as she draws in a shaky breath.
It is more than she could have hoped for. She can't help but think she is dreaming because in her dreams he had forgiven her, over and over he had, but she never thought she would see her dreams become a reality. "I forgive you," he repeats and she's still unsure. Wrapping her hands around his neck, her fingers threading through the curls on the back of his neck, she tips her face up, kissing him with more intensity than the first kiss, believing that kissing is better than pinching to discover if she's really dreaming. The sensations light her skin on fire and a shiver runs down her spine and she knows that this is more than a vision in her mind.
He wants to fall into this, sweep her off her feet and make love to her over and over until they're completely exhausted. But he pulls back. "Tell me you believe me," he requests in between breaths. She looks at him for a second, searching his eyes for the truth. Then she nods. She runs her hand down the side of his neck to his chest, slipping her fingers in-between the buttons of his shirt. He can scarcely breathe, his heart beating rapidly from the feeling of her hands so close to his skin and he wonders if she can feel it pulsing through his ribcage. Lifting her eyes to his again, checking to see if he's with her, she looks back down at her hands, carefully undoing each button of his flannel.
"Lorelai," he says, grasping her upper arms as she separates his flannel with her hands, pulling it off of him. Soundlessly, she reaches for the bottom of his grey t-shirt but he grabs her wrists to still them, wanting to hear her response before going any further. "Tell me you believe me."
"I believe you," she says huskily, her desire dripping from her lips. With that he lets go of her wrists and she lifts his shirt over his head, tossing it aside as she wraps her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly. "I believe you," she repeats kissing the side of his mouth and then his jaw and then his neck. She trails kisses down his neck to his collarbone. "I believe you" she repeats with every peck on his soft skin. Her fingers follow her lips down his chest. "I believe you. I believe you. I believe you," she says with no hesitation, the repetition becoming a mantra in his head.
His head is spinning from the cadence of her words combined with the feeling of her sweet, tender, wanting kisses trailing down his body. He can no longer sense where he is or where her kisses are being placed, but he knows she's arousing him with every touch of the pads of her fingers and the wetness of her lips. Before he knows it, he feels her pulling at the belt around him and his eyes fly open. Looking down, he finds her kneeling before him, her hands undoing his belt. "No," he strangles out, grasping her underneath her shoulders and pulling her up to stand in front of him.
Staring into her eyes, watching her sea-blue eyes pool black with desire, he runs his knuckles up and down her sides. She braces the back of his head with her hand, leaning forward and kissing him again. "I forgive you too," she mutters against his lips, kissing him again. And he realizes why he's been holding back, he's been waiting to hear those words as well. Wrapping his arms around her waist, his fingers press into the small of her back, pulling her against him as he kisses her back. He runs his tongue over her bottom lip and she opens her mouth to him, their tongues colliding. His fingers reach for the bottom of her shirt, running lightly on the skin underneath and she gasps at the touch. She leans back to nibble on his lower lip, her hand running down to stroke over his stubble, rememorizing the feeling of his face beneath her fingers.
"Lorelai," he murmurs, his fingers pulling on the bottom of her shirt. Reluctantly she pulls back, raising her hands above her head to allow him to pull off her shirt. He quickly tosses it aside, his hands going back to her wrists and running down her arms, down her shoulders, running along her sides, his thumbs lightly brushing the sides of her breasts as his hands travel down to grasp at the soft skin of her waist. She moans against his lips, loving the feelings of his hands once again on her body, and throws her arms back around him, running over the tight muscles of his back, becoming turned on from the skin on skin contact she's ached for.
He presses her back against the wall, getting as close to her as he possibly can, grinding against her as he becomes more and more aroused. "Luke," she breathes out, between kisses and he dips his head down to nip at the curve of her neck, right below her ear, eliciting the soft moan he'd been hoping for. He runs his fingers over her flat stomach and then lightly trails his fingers up over her breasts, hearing her breath hitch in her throat. "Bed," she manages, her breath caught in her chest as he circles his thumbs over her nipples through her pink lacy bra, feeling them harden beneath his touch.
Instead of keeping up his attention to her breasts, his hands reach down to take hold of her thighs and he presses her tighter against the wall. In response, she tightens her hold on his neck, her mouth once against searching out his as she wraps her legs around his waist, locking her ankles around him. His hands move up to her butt, holding her firmly against him as he maneuvers them from the nursery into their bedroom and over to the bed. Leaning over, he loosens his grip on her laying her down on the bed, his eyes trail over her, capturing her beauty once again. She smiles at him, seeing the adoration in his eyes. "I'm just so..." he manages, but is stopped with her hand moving to cover his mouth.
"I love you, Luke. That's all that matters anymore," she tells him seriously, hoping he feels the weight of her honest words. Reaching up to grab her wrist, he places a kiss against her hand and then lower on her wrist. Letting go of that, he bends down to place a kiss on her mouth. He nods to let her know he understands. She smiles again, shuffling so that she's fully on the bed, reaching out for him. He places his hand in hers, crawling up to settle himself down next to her. Reaching around, he unclasps and removes her bra, his eyes settling again on her perfect breasts. Tipping his head forward, he places a kiss against her lips, his hands settling over her breasts, moving in circles and she arches towards him. She moans as he tweaks her hard nipples with between his thumb and forefingers. Bending his head lower, he takes one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking gently as he knows she likes it. As he moves his mouth to lavish attention on her other breast, his hand moving to cover the one his mouth just left, she wraps her hands around his head, running her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, if that was possible.
He pulls back and reaches behind her to unzip her skirt. He grabs hold of both her skirt and panties and removes them, his hands quickly returning to the soft skin of her thighs. He attempts to slide his hand up to feel her heat, but she is quicker as she loosens his belt and unbuttons his jeans, quickly doing away with both his jeans and boxers. As he settles on top of her, his eyes trail up her body to match with hers, finding her looking at him with such intensity, such want and need, that kicks his arousal up another notch. "Luke, please," she begs, wanting to go slowly but knowing she's going to burst beneath his passionate gaze if he waits any longer, she can feel his arousal pressing into her thigh and appreciates that he is just as ready. She circles her hips beneath him for emphasis.
After ostitioning himself at her entrance, he runs his hands back up her thighs, over the curve of her butt and hips, up the sides of her breasts and up her arms, pulling them above her head. His hands pause momentarily at her wrists but continue on to her hands. He looks down at her with a look that she perceives as tender and loving, but wild with desire. "I love you," he says meaning every one of the three beautiful words. Though normally her fingers would lay free, this time she interlaces their fingers, holding his hands tightly in her own and she knows she's seeing his soul as well. He's completely open to her just as she is vulnerable to him. "I love you," he repeats, his heart full from the tenderness in her eyes and he dips his head down to place one more kiss against her lips as he slowly enters her, filling her completely, just as his presence and his smile and his love has always filled her heart.
They make love slowly, not taking their eyes off of each other the entire time as the moonlight streams in the window, reflecting a light in their eyes that beams with the love they feel inside. It was more than sex, more than making love, it was a unification, a coming together, not just for Gabriel, but for themselves. And in the moment of their climax, as each cries out the other's name in pleasure, the glow from the moon encompasses both, as if their heart and souls are joined for all eternity.
Afterwards, he rolls off of her, pulling her tightly against him, both panting for breath, feeling no less satiated than the first time they made love that first night beneath the orange plaid sheets of the bed in his old apartment over the diner. She lays her head on his shoulder and he turns his face, placing a kiss on her forehead. Her hands play with his as his right hand brushes against her curls, then lowering to settle on her hip. Her left hand ends up resting over the muscles of his abs and he quickly covers hers with his. She looks down at it, lifting up her hand so she can look at theirs, seeing his large hand covering her own long slender one. Their silver rings rest one on top of each other, so alike, a pair, as they are, joining them together forever. He watches her expression as she stares at their hands, as she slowly gnaws on her lower lip, a conflicted expression in her eyes and he thinks he almost sees tears once again in her eyes.
He lifts his fingers up to pull hers down so he can hold onto hers from underneath. "Lorelai," he says softly, hoping that the sound of her name running over his lips will make her smile, but she doesn't.
"Luke, will you promise me something?" she asks, looking up to gaze into his eyes, her expression nothing but questions marks. His right hand moves up to grasp her elbow, his thumbs tracing circles over her soft skin, as her left turns to hold his, her fingers playing with the band on his ring finger.
"I already promised to love and cherish you for the rest of our lives," he jokes receiving a tender smile in response, even a slight one within the worry of her eyes.
"Baby, something else," she says and his heart skips a beat. He had almost forgotten his love for the pet names she gave him. One would think that he, Luke Danes, would never be one to care for girlish nicknames like that, but each time one left her mouth he couldn't help but be moved by each one. Not that he would ever think to use one for her. Her name, Lorelai, no matter the meaning, was the most beautiful name he had ever heard, he couldn't help but think that there was never a name more suited for the woman lying naked against him. To call her something like 'sweetheart' wouldn't do her justice and to shorten her name to something like 'Lor' would do her name little justice as well.
"I want you to promise me that you will be open with me. Communication. That's where we got lost. What we do here, is all very well and good, and yes, it is good, great actually," she says with an arch to her eyebrow and a flirtatious ring to her tone. "But we need to communicate. Anything bad. Anything good. Anything wonderful. Anything terrible. Never hesitate to tell me. We're more than just lovers, Luke. We're husband and wife. We're best friends."
She seems almost fearful in her tone, timid in her gaze. He knows it's not that she's afraid to request this from him, it's more than that. She's afraid of what might happen if he doesn't follow through with his promise, if she can't do the same in response. She's afraid of losing him again. "You betcha," he finally chokes out, trying to keep his tone light though he's feeling a little choked up himself from the strength and intensity of her words. "You need to promise the same."
He watches as her lips curve into a smile, seeming like a weight has been lifted off of her. "You got it, Dude," she responds, laughing as she says this. She lets go of his hand to run her fingers over the stubble of cheek, gazing up into his eyes with a girlish smile before she leans in to kiss him again.