She walked through the darkened offices, seeing the light on in his. She stopped in the doorway, leaning against the door frame to watch him concentrate over a document he was reading.
He looked out of place in the office, clad in jeans and a thin blue sweater, but his concentration, his serious determination shone through and she smiled studying him.
"Is he going to get off easy?" she asked, smiling.
He looked up, obviously confused as he stared at her.
"The case you're working on" she clarified as she pushed herself off the doorway, taking slow steps towards him.
He looked back at the papers spilled all over his desk and sighed thinking about his answer.
"It's not a guy. It's a multinational corporation" he elaborated with a smug smile.
She smiled walking up towards his desk mouthing a good-natured "oooh".
"But yes, they are going to get off easily" he went on, leaning back in his chair to watch her approach.
She sat down across from him, placing her bag on the floor, feeling slightly out of place in the sleek office.
"Well, as long as they are not causing cancer in little kids" she shrugged and stopped mid-motion when his face grew solemn.
"Oh my god, they are causing cancer in little kids?" Rory asked, panic rushing her.
He smirked a second later and relief washed over her.
"No, they're just tax cheaters" he reassured her, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Oh, okay, that's good" she replied and watched as he laughed wholeheartedly.
It reminded her of the way he was as a child. Because he was just that when they first met, not that he liked to admit. He had these carefree moments back then, much more often than now. She wondered sometimes if he would have grown up to be someone with more moments like this had he not been raised in such a cold family, had he not been sent away, had he not have had his heart broken by her. She sighed, suddenly feeling uneasy.
"How was your interview?" he asked, studying her face, his voice nonchalant.
Her mood grew wearier, remembering her meeting from before. It went well enough, but she somehow felt like it was just a charade. That's how she felt for a long time now actually.
Through years and years of experience and working at and for different papers, she learned how this all went down. Learned how to operate with subjects, how to write an article. It became second nature to her, the whole process. She felt like she could do it on auto-pilot. But that made her feel guilty. She couldn't quite grasp it, but she felt like she should put more effort into her work. Even if all she ever got was rave reviews, she felt like she was cheating the world, because she could have done all this with more passion, more dedication, how she used to back when she started out. She felt like she was imitating dedication. And even if it was a good imitation, it didn't feel true.
"It was okay" she said, snapping out of her reverie. Denying these thoughts became second nature to her by now.
She didn't look up, somehow her guilt now superimposed towards Tristan.
"You need time to write it up?" he asked her and she noticed how his tone was gentle, contemplative.
"No" she shrugged "I'll just do it later".
She finally looked at him, the silence in the office making her curious.
He was studying her with a quiet calmness and she felt a blush on her face, under his scrutiny.
"You got a lot to do here still?" she tried to change the subject, looking around self consciously.
"No, not really" he replied calmly.
"I don't want to interrupt your work" she said.
"Alright" he replied smirking, mocking her.
She blushed again, taking a shaky breath.
He suddenly rose form his seat grabbing his coat off the back of his chair.
"Let's go" he said, nonchalantly moving towards the exit.
Rory looked after him shocked.
"I can give you a couple of minutes, if you..." she motioned to the mess of papers on his desk, but he was already out the door.
"Move your butt, Gilmore" she heard his voice and she sighed rolling her eyes.
She grabbed her stuff and walked after him, catching up to him by the elevator that just opened with a ding.
She followed him inside, sighing as she leaned against the wall.
"Are you sure?" she asked quietly, feeling guilty for showing up and interrupting his work.
He studied her for a couple of seconds, the ever present smirk on his face, then stepped closer to her, suddenly catching her off guard.
Her heart started to race realizing they had not yet greeted each other.
"I'm sure" he whispered, closing the gap between them, his soft lips finding hers. She closed her eyes relieved as she felt him kiss her gently, his arms snaking around her waist, puling her close against his body.
It was easy to get lost in his kisses. Easy to not think about anything else. Easy to be pulled in again and again, the rest of the world melting away as his tongue swept inside her mouth, tasting her with a quiet dedication.
She heard someone clear his throat and she pulled away from the kiss to see a janitor standing in front of the elevator's open doors. She realized they had probably reached the ground floor seconds ago. She murmured an apology and felt her face blush, but Tristan just smirked, taking her hand in his as he walked passed the amused worker.
He pulled her after him as he stepped out of the building, an unusual warm rush of winds swirling past them. It was strangely mild out, despite the season. She looked up at the sky, the evening clouds rolling in over the city. She could already smell the rain, yet the air was still warm, humid, the way it is in stormy summer evenings and she suddenly felt a feeling of nostalgia.
He turned to her, his face still amused.
"Hey" he said, his voice smug as he stepped closer, his fingers reaching up to tuck her loose strands of hair behind her ears, even if the wind wouldn't allow them to stay in place.
She felt his warmness, his calmness, his confident presence and she couldn't help but smile.
"Hey" she replied, biting back a smile.
"You hungry?" he asked, his grin signaling he already knew the answer.
"Yeah" she murmured and he chuckled, once again taking her hand to lead her to whatever destination he already had in mind.
"The meeting was at a bio-restaurant" she huffed, partly to explain herself and partly to express her disgust at the fact that such places existed.
She walked obediently as he lead her, her steps quick to be able to keep up with his long, graceful walk.
"A bio-restaurant?" he asked, his voice amused as he pulled her after himself.
"Yeah, everything in it is unprocessed or something" she deadpanned.
"Hmm" he played along.
"If I want unprocessed food, I go to a marketplace" she quipped, raising her voice slightly for him to be able to hear over the traffic noise, "if I want to have lunch..."
"You want some killed animals" he cut her off, his words cynical.
"Yeah...well, no... but a burger would be nice" she replied hurt, looking both ways before they crossed the street.
"We'll get you a burger" he smiled.
"You better" she murmured concentrating on avoiding a puddle.
"So he was a health nut?" he asked nonchalantly.
Rory furrowed her eyebrows, not understanding. She turned her head to study his face as he kept walking pulling her along with him.
"Who? The guy?" she shrugged trying to recall her subject "yeah, I guess... Which is funny, considering he is a dot-com nerd".
"He was a nerd?" he asked amused, as he steered past the people on the busy sidewalks.
"Well, not really. It's the 'disguised nerd' type" she explained, her voice totally serious.
"The 'disguised nerd'? What is that?" he asked with a chuckle as he looked back at her.
"Oh come on, it's the type of kid who is all buff and a health freak and into bio-food and exercise, and the latest metrosexual trends and all, but deep down, he is just a sad little nerd who spent one too many nights in college in front of his computer developing something silly that unbelievably turned into an internet success that he can now sell off to some huge corporation and live off the money for the rest of his life á la Mark Zuckerberg"
"Who is Zuckerberg?" he interrupted her rant.
"The Facebook guy" she replied.
"Oh right. He a closeted nerd too?" he asked, his voice close to cracking up.
"I don't know, he might just be" she replied with mock snobbery.
"I still don't get your problem with them. They had a good idea, they sold it for a lot of money. Good for them" he shrugged.
"Too bad he won't get to enjoy it, because he'll be too busy worrying about counting calories and checking labels to see if anyone dared to process his milk" she continued her rant, which had become a tad bit hostile and she realized he was staring at her with an even more amused expression as they waited for the light to change to walk on the corner.
"What?" she asked uneasily.
"I really need to get you that burger" he replied with mock concern and she rolled her eyes pulling him along as the light changed.
They crossed the street and she once again felt him take the lead protectively, slaloming carefully in the crowd.
She recognized the direction they were heading towards and soon she saw the small burger place that seemed to be hidden from the crowds. It was still a New York City restaurant, with dimly lit rooms and black and white photographs lining the walls, but it was quiet too, with red leather booths and old fashioned menus that she knew by heart.
He opened the door and walked in, pulling her after himself and she chuckled.
"What?" he asked her, furrowing his brows as he helped her take her coat off.
"You are always opening car doors, and helping off jackets, and rising from the table when someone stands up" she rambled as she watched him, his face still confused "but you never let me enter a restaurant first. Isn't that in the etiquette?"
He smiled, finally catching her drift.
"Actually" he said as he pulled out a chair for her raising an eyebrow to emphasize his gesture "you never know if there is a brawl going on or not when you enter a place, so one should not let a lady enter an unknown premise first. Flying chairs are very dangerous."
"Ohhh" she said amused "I understand now. Who taught you this very useful information?"
His amused face suddenly turned serious and she watched him glance towards the waiter as if trying to occupy himself.
"My grandfather" he replied, quietly, motioning to the waiter, perhaps so they wouldn't have to sit in the uncomfortable silence that ensued.
Rory's mood dropped, remembering his loss that he had to endure soon after he left for military school. The old man was the only one in his family he seemed to ever feel a connection to and his sudden death sent him into an emotional withdrawal that she still felt the effects of, years later, when they met.
"Well, he was right" she said, forcing her voice to be cheerful "I'll take precaution over etiquette any day"
She took his hand and he looked back at her, forcing out a thankful smile.
The waiter arrived and he ordered immediately, giving him her usual list without having to ask her about it, extra bacon and cheese included.
She watched him with an amused smile as he finished the order, finally looking back over at her as the waiter left for the kitchen.
"Did I get everything right?" he asked with a chuckle.
"Yeah, should be enough for starters" she replied with a mock sigh.
He rolled his eyes and moved closer, leaning over the table to play with her fingers.
"So..." he started, his voice calm "why is he selling?"
She furrowed her eyes confused, not understanding.
"Oh" she said, realizing what he was talking about "I don't know" she shrugged.
"Isn't it his work of labor? Must be hard to sell it off to a big bad corporate" he asked, his eyes shining with a genuine interest. It made her feel strange. She pulled back, suddenly feeling uneasy.
"He is getting a lot of money for it" she shrugged "he seems happy to do it"
"Wasn't he making a lot of money from it before?" he went on and she studied his face wondering why he was pursuing the subject.
"He is moving to Florida, he says it's convenient to sell" she replied, glancing towards the kitchen.
"How come?" he asked and she sighed annoyed.
"Uhm..., he is... he's getting married to his girlfriend and she got a dreamjob or something there" she replied, her voice getting inpatient "it's taking them a lot longer tonight to serve, don't you think?" she asked, once again glancing at the kitchen.
She turned back to see his face contemplative.
"So he is giving up his own dream for his girlfriend's?" he asked quietly.
She looked at him, her face stern.
"Why does this interest you so much?" she snapped wiping her eyes frustrated.
He leaned back in his chair, taking a long breath.
"It doesn't. I'm just trying to have a conversation about your day" he said calmly.
"Well, it wasn't interesting. It's a cliché really. Dot-com nerd selling off his company to a giant after he made a buttload of money off the whirlwind success of his college creation" she replied, her voice slightly annoyed.
"Except the part about him giving this up for his girlfriend" he pointed out quietly and Rory felt a pang of guilt pierce through her.
"What are you implying?" she asked, her face serious.
"I am not implying anything" he chuckled "I'm just saying it should be an interesting angle on this"
She sighed, feeling a headache coming on and she rubbed her temples.
"Let's not talk about work anymore" she sighed, relieved when the waiter placed their plates on the table.
"Hmm, looks great" she forced out a smile as she dug in, feeling his eyes bore into her.
She noted out of the corner of her eyes that he had not started on his food, studying her instead, the way he always did when he was trying to figure her out. It left her feeling uneasy and annoyed. As far as she was concerned, there was nothing to figure out, nothing out of the ordinary, except that it was a Saturday that she once again had to spend working.
She swallowed a huge bite of her food, taking her anger out on the innocent burger.
She ate in silence, relieved when he finally took his own food into his hands, taking a bite from the burger.
She sneaked a peak at him, chewing down on his food with a calm precision that he always seemed to posses no matter what he was doing. He ate silently, slowly and she sensed the uncomfortable silence settle in around them.
"I'm sorry" she said, putting down her food and wiping her mouth with a napkin "but it just seems you are trying to make me feel guilty or something" she said, her voice slightly hurt.
"About what?" he said, his voice serious, his eyes questioning.
She stared at his eyes, blue and shining, confusion playing in them. His eyes looked like the way the weather felt tonight, warning, but strangely exciting at the same time, She felt tempted to wait out the break of the storm, but she suddenly felt uncertain about her own grounds. She suddenly felt silly.
"About your work?" he asked, his voice slightly incredulous.
She sighed, annoyed.
"No... about the fact that I don't appreciate this guy's heroic self sacrifice" she huffed.
He narrowed his eyes.
"I was just simply trying to point out that there was a story there, that it wasn't just the cliché turn of events that you referred to" he explained, his voice getting defensive.
"You were trying to point out that I don't appreciate sacrifice for the one you love" she barked back.
She immediately regretted her comment when she saw his face change. From a look of confusion to a sudden realization. He scoffed, smiling wryly as he dropped his food and leaned back in his chair to study her face.
She felt herself blush, realizing that it was probably not what he was aiming at at all. She dropped her eyes nervously, cursing herself for giving him ideas.
"Why do you think I was trying to point that out, Rory?" came the inevitable question, and she could practically hear the condescendence in his tone, his words, his use of her name. He might as well have called her Mary.
She felt an incredible urge to push her chair back, stand up and storm out, but she knew it would only make her look more childish.
So she stayed instead, her eyes fixed on a spot on the table, stubbornly waiting his cruel dig.
"I wasn't" he said and the tone surprised her. It was apologetic, calming, concerned "I was just trying to understand why you felt so aggravated by this story".
She sighed, feeling like she didn't deserve his concern.
"You just seem so unattached and so unmotivated, and I remember a time you would have been up at six AM to do research for a story like this and then would be holed up in your room till the next day typing up the story as soon as you got back from the interview" he went on, his voice soothing, despite the fact that the things he said drove right into her heart.
She sighed, feeling her eyes stinging and the back of her throat tightening as she listened to his words.
She felt his hand take hers and she closed her eyes trying to hold back the tears she felt coming.
"Is this just the story or is this something more?" he asked.
She sighed, blinking a couple of times, trying to regain her composure.
"I don't know" she whispered.
She really didn't. It would have been devastating to admit that she felt like this about every story. It was in fact safer to hope that this story seemed to repulse her for some unknown reason. But in the back of her mind, she wasn't sure.
"Why did you think that I was trying to say that you don't appreciate sacrifice?" he asked, his voice so quiet she hardly even heard, but somehow the question seemed to be as intruding as the loudest explosion.
She looked up at him and she felt her guilt wash over herself like a tidal wave. His beautiful, deep blue eyes focused on hers made her feel unworthy and cruel and she felt numb, opening her mouth but not finding any words to express herself.
"Because you would have every right to" she finally managed, her voice small, weak.
He looked at her stunned as she dropped her gaze again, unable to look at him anymore. She felt like she was shrinking, like the world around her finally won and managed to break down her walls, flooding her carefully built contrivance, the waves of destruction washing her soul clean and aimless.
"That's not true" she heard him say as he reached out to hold her hands in his "Mary, you know that's not true" he went on and his endearment finally made her tears fall, her sight blurred as she sensed him move out of his chair and pulling her out of her own.
He grabbed her coat and threw some bills on the table, pulling her out of the restaurant and she obeyed, dragging herself as her tears streamed down her face.
She felt the cool night air hit her face as they stepped out onto the sidewalk and he pulled her into a strong hug, his hands caressing her hair as he whispered into her ear.
"Baby...come on... look at me" he hushed her, his voice eternally gentle.
She looked up at him and he smiled encouragingly.
"It doesn't matter anymore, okay? Nothing matters. Don't cry, please" he whispered, his words barely audible. The murmuring seemed to calm her down, like a master's commands to the ravaging beast.
"It's going to be alright, we'll figure it out, we'll figure it all out" he repeated and pulled her close again, his warmness a protective shield as she melted into his hold.
They stood there for long seconds and she suddenly felt raindrops hitting them. They looked up and she sighed, seeing the rain once again taking over the city.
"God, it really is 40 rainy days, huh?" he chuckled and she smiled, covering herself in his arms again.
He waved down a cab and gently guided her into the back, giving directions to the driver as he pulled her close.
She closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of his embrace and she wondered how she ever thought she could be without this, without his gentle touch, his calm kindness, his eternal optimism.
xxxxxxxxxxxx
She woke up to the thunder breaking outside and she rubbed her eyes in confusion, the lightning illuminating the room for long seconds. She looked around, noting that his side of the bed was empty.
She listened to the silence of his apartment trying to figure out whether he'd just left for the bathroom or if he'd gone to watch TV, like he usually did when he couldn't sleep at night.
She could make out no noises coming from anywhere.
She carefully slipped out of bed, her bare feet quietly hitting the hardwood floor, her movements unsteady, drowsy.
She walked out into the living room and stopped, seeing his figure standing in front of the large windows. He was looking out over the sleeping city that was bathed in the steady downpour of rain. A bolt of lightning illuminated his form, his strong chest bare as he stood in his boxers.
She shivered unconsciously, seeing the quiet concentration on his face. She wondered what he could be thinking about. His solemn demeanor left her feeling uneasy.
"Tristan?" she called out, careful not to startle him.
He turned around to look at her and she felt her heart race as she saw his eyes, clouded over with worry.
She moved slowly towards him as he turned back to stare out the window, finally coming to rest next to him, folding her arms protectively in front of her chest as she once again shivered in the cold air.
"Couldn't sleep?" she asked, worry present in her voice.
"The storm was really loud" he offered as an explanation.
Somehow she felt that it wasn't the whole story though. She contemplated in silence whether to question him further.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked, her heartbeat speeding up as she held her breath to hear his answer.
He sighed and continued to stare out the window.
"Tris" she nudged him gently.
He sighed again as if contemplating whether to talk to her or not.
"Why would you say that I think you didn't appreciate sacrifice?" he asked, turning to her, his eyes shining with a strange determination.
Rory felt confused.
"Didn't we have this conversation already?" she murmured.
"It didn't occur to me then..." he said, his face in a confused frown.
"What?" she asked, uncertainty rushing her.
"That you did make sacrifices for me" he replied.
Rory stared at him confused, not understanding where he was going with this.
"You gave up on Brussels" he went on, his eyes boring into hers.
"Tristan" she pleaded "that's... that's not true... I'm not sure I wanted that at all..."
His voice cut her off.
"The one you didn't make sacrifices for..." he said and her breath caught in her chest, shocked at what she was hearing.
"Was Logan" he finished, his voice slightly surprised.
"What?" she whispered, searching his eyes to try to understand.
"He gave you an ultimatum and you thought it wasn't worth the sacrifice" he pondered aloud.
She felt the anger starting to boil deep in her abdomen.
"Why are we talking about this?" she asked, her voice trembling with emotions.
"Rory" he looked at her, his voice strong, determined "where you afraid I would give you an ultimatum? That you would have to chose again?"
"What?" she scoffed annoyed.
"Did you think me proposing to you was an ultimatum?" he went on.
"No" she replied immediately, shaking her head to emphasize the answer "Where is all this coming from?"
"I suddenly had this idea that you were trying to prevent your life from repeating itself. So you tried dreadfully to do it differently this time around. Only it... didn't turn out any better." he wondered out aloud.
"This is ridiculous. Why are saying this?" she asked him, not wanting to accept his theory.
"I am trying to figure out what happened" he replied, his words slow, careful.
"Well stop!" she burst out, her words heavy with emotions "I told you what happened. We talked about what happened. There isn't anything more to say."
"It doesn't make sense to me" he shook his head.
"Well maybe it's not supposed to" she shot back "maybe I am allowed to have one irrational period in my perfectly stable life!"
Her voice echoed in the room as he took a deep breath, as if trying to accept her answer.
"I need to know" he said, slowly, quietly and she let out a long frustrated breath.
"I need to know I am different from him" he said, his voice almost pleading.
"What?" she burst out, not believing what he was saying "Logan?" she asked, incredulous "this is about Logan?"
He stared at her, not backing down.
"You cannot be serious. What does he have to do with this?" she cried.
He didn't reply and she wondered if it was because he was ashamed to feel the way he did or because he was trying to make her feel guilty for something.
"Stop it" she groaned, rubbing her temples in frustration.
"I've been standing here for an hour thinking, Rory, and it keeps coming back to him."
"No" she cut him off "You and my mother. You are the only ones that still think of him. I don't. Okay? It is done and over with and not every decision I make is influenced by an ex-boyfriend from years and years ago."
He sighed, perhaps trying to accept her argument.
"You are not him" she whispered "You are not like him."
"Your mother thinks so" he sighed defeatedly.
"Then she doesn't know you" she pleaded.
"Rory" he sighed "you have to admit..." he started, his voice cracking.
"No" she cut him off "there is nothing to admit. You can stand here all you want, trying to propose theories and give explanations, but there is no point."
He studied her face as she stood there, not backing down, determined to erase the doubts in his mind.
"Rory?" he said her name, dropping his gaze to the floor as if trying to address something painful "Do you ever regret saying no to him?"
His question rang louder than the thunder from outside and she stood there shocked.
She watched his face, troubled behind the mask of cool confidence and he suddenly looked helpless to him.
"No" she whispered genuinely "No" she repeated, shaking her head to emphasize her point as she stepped closer to him, reaching out her hand.
He fingers lingered on his skin as he closed his eyes taking a deep breath.
"But you did regret saying yes to me" he whispered, his voice small, broken and her heart hurt seeing the pain on his face.
She dropped her hand, breathing hard. She felt like he was literally slipping away.
"I can't change what happened. I can't go back and do things differently" she pleaded and he sighed as if trying to keep his composure.
"And I don't want to" she suddenly said, her voice strong, ringing with a new found determination "I want to be here. With you. Now."
He looked up at her, his eyes questioning.
"So I am" she went on as if that statement could prove everything to him.
He sighed and she could feel his defenses crumble. She moved closer to him, once again reaching out for him.
"Let me" she whispered "because it's the only thing that makes sense to me right now."
She moved into his arms, that snaked around her unconsciously, and she sighed relieved to feel his skin against her face. She revelled in the fact that these two bodies seemed to naturally find their common resting place, despite all the confusion and doubt racing inside them.
She felt another thunderbolt gently shake the air around her and the lightning followed suit, her body reverberating with the shock waves, the air seemingly magnetic around them.
She faintly remembered the laws of impedance and molecular physics and electricity, and for the slightest moment she had the notion that maybe all those laws, all those theories, with their carefully constructed arguments where useless, because there was nothing stronger than love and want and need between people who are supposed to be together.
And for the first time, Rory Gilmore, the one who always had to have rational explanations for everything, wanted to believe in something she only felt but had no theory for.