Chapter Seven- Like a Live Telephone Wire Disconnected from its Line

He gaped at her openly for a moment, hoping that she was going to drop her determined, almost combative stance. When thirty seconds passed in silence he knew he wasn't going to get out of having to explain why it was he had fallen in love with the woman staring him down from right under his nose. The pressure of trying to find the right way to express everything he'd been collecting in his heart for years upon years sent him into a tight pace, making use of the confined space between the kitchen table and the countertop. He was a man of few words and she was practically her own running commentator for every event in her life from weddings to toe nail polish. How was he supposed to reach that level of verbosity for even five minutes?

She remained right where he'd left her and watched him stalk back and forth in the corner of his apartment like a tiger at the zoo feeling threatened by the noise and presence of so many people around its caged environment. She said nothing, afraid he would pounce if she startled him. Finally he came to an abrupt halt and lifted stormy eyes up to hers, making her belly clench with the intensity she found in those ocean blue depths.

"Lorelai, I shouldn't have to tell you what an amazing person you are. Selfless, caring, affectionate… give me a thesaurus and I could go on forever finding words that describe you. I fell in love with you for two different reasons. First with how great of a mother to Rory you've been. It couldn't have been easy going through what you went through and yet you've come out on top-"

"But my being a mother has nothing to do with you," she interjected.

"Do you want to hear this?"

"Yes."

"Then shut up and let me get it out."

She made a motion as if to pull a zipper tab across her lips, signaling that she was shutting up and giving him the floor once again. He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling because that was what was expected of him in these exchanges; she did something weird and he acted or actually was annoyed by her antics.

"Where was I? Oh, right. The second was the friendship you forced onto me. You make it so I have something to look forward to every day when you come barging into my diner with your anecdotes to make me laugh and the vein on my forehead to stick out. Your weird personality brings color to my day and over time I guess I just… fell in love," he finished, feeling a little lame.

He watched her sheepishly, waiting for some kind of response to the baring of his innermost soul; it might not have been poetry or preceded by thousands of little yellow flowers but he thought he'd done a pretty good job of getting his point across. He knew Max could write her sonnets and ballads about how beautiful and wonderful she was and just how much he loved her but considering she'd just run from that in what looked like a ten ton wedding dress, Luke had to wonder how much all of that really meant to her.

And it didn't mean that much to her. She knew she had more than enough words for everyone she met any then some. It wasn't so much the words anymore, but the meaning behind those words. When Max told her that he loved her he was really saying that he liked who she was enough to want to spend the rest of his life trying to mold her into what he considered to be the perfect woman. And here was Luke, using the same words but he was really telling her that he wanted to be with her because of who she already was, that he essentially wanted to spend the rest of his life with the woman standing in his living room barefoot wearing his flannel.

She took pity on his obvious nerves that were making him twitchy and active like a live telephone wire disconnected from its line, jumping and trembling in the street. Lorelai approached him slowly, giving him time to change his mind and back away, then replaced the hand she'd held over his heart. The rhythm beat a strong and somewhat erratic tempo against the pads of her fingertips, a beat that quickened as her palm came to rest against his chest as well. His hand came up to covers hers lightly, as if he were afraid that too much pressure would cause her to turn and bolt for the door. But instead of running, she simply dragged her sight up from the hypnotizing pattern woven into his flannel and up to his eyes.

"Why did you want it to be me at the end of the isle, Lorelai?" he asked tentatively.

"Because you fit."

"I fit?"

"You've never had to work to fit into my life. You've always just fit."

"So you wanted me to be the one you married because I fit?"

"Yes. No. Sort of. I hadn't dared to actually think about you like that before your little confession the other night because you've always fit so well. I'd been too scared to let you be a contender. What if by dating you I warped your shape from the perfect round shape to something oval? I couldn't take that. No, correction; I can't take that. I need you in my life, Luke, even if it is just as a friend. I never needed anyone until Rory came and I never needed anyone else until I met you. I've always loved you as a friend and I think a part of me, a part I'd locked away and sealed off, has loved you as more for some time. I just didn't have the key to unlock that tower until you said something."

"So you wanted me to be the one you married because you love me?"

"I'm not one hundred percent yet, but I'd like to have the chance to find out. Is that alright?"

"I'm good with that."

For the first time Luke dipped his head down, his eyes drifting shut, and let his lips brush against her waiting ones. He was testing the waters like a child at the swimming pool who stuck only their big toe in to check the temperature. It was the faintest of touches, a ghost of a kiss, and yet Lorelai was pretty sure she could have shocked a dying man back to life with the electricity passing between their lips. It was the first kiss of what promised to be many over the course of their relationship.

Luke had his girl and Lorelai… Lorelai finally remembered what it was to just breathe.

Fin.