41 - Seriously
I can't believe I just blurted it out like that, a panicked Rory thought, her azure eyes wide while on the way towards her Prius. What the hell was I thinking? He must think I'm a complete psycho now! She stuffed a hand into her hastily grabbed purse to fish out the keys to her parked vehicle, only to spend nearly a minute digging around in search of them with no success. Where the hell are they?!
"You lose something?" Marty asked from behind her.
"Oh, my God! Don't do that!" Rory shrieked, heart pounding hard in her chest from his sudden appearance. "You scared the crap out of me!"
"Sorry about that," he grinned sheepishly, her car keys dangling from his held up left hand. "You need these?"
"Yes, thank you," she began, but frowned up at her boyfriend when he pulled them away just beyond her reach. "Come on, Marty."
"Not until we talk about what just happened back there," Marty stated.
"But-" Rory started to protest.
"Come on, Rory," he reached out to grasp her hand with his right one, an almost pleading expression on his face. "Please?"
"Alright," the reporter relented with a sigh, unable to resist.
"Let's head inside," Marty suggested, leading Rory back towards the townhouse by the hand. "I'm not exactly dressed for talking outside in this weather."
"Right," she agreed, just now noticing that he wasn't wearing a jacket. When a brief but strong gust of wind blew by to cause Marty to shiver slightly, Rory felt guilty for making him follow her outside in such an ill prepared state. Great! Now not only am I crazy, but inconsiderate. What a wonderful girlfriend I'm turning out to be!
"Chicago's really living up to that 'Windy City' nickname," he joked, still leading back to the townhouse. He glanced back at her, smiling. "Don't you think so?"
Rory smiled back, albeit hers was a little bit forced. "I suppose it is."
Without another word the couple re-entered the townhouse, hand in hand, until they reached the living room, where they went to opposite ends of the couch. It didn't take long for the earlier awkwardness to return. Even though Marty had initiated this conversation, it was quite apparent that he was struggling to find the right words to begin. So instead Rory decided to take control of the situation, if only to get the whole thing out in the open.
"Okay, you're obviously still in shock," she babbled, nervous. "Which isn't really all that surprising when you consider how I've been constantly advocating for us to take things slow, so me just blurting out those 'three big words' like that must have really be-"
"You need to calm down, Rory," Marty cut in, who had moved forward across the couch enough to grasp her hands. "Just take a deep breath and relax."
"But-"
"Seriously, you're starting to look really freaked out," he insisted, the light grip on her hands now released. "Relax."
That's easier said than done, Marty, sighed the reporter, her rapid heart thumping hard against the inside of her rib cage. After what seemed like an eternity, Rory finally felt calm enough to continue. "You must think I'm a complete psychopath right now."
Marty let out a soft chuckle. "No, not a complete psychopath."
"Well, thank God for that," she rolled her eyes.
"Seriously though, Rory," her boyfriend said. "I don't think you're a psychopath. I am wondering if you meant what you said though."
"Of course, I did," the nervous reporter admitted, shyly tucking some of her loose hair behind an ear. "I have for quite a long time, actually. I've just been...suppressing it."
"Suppressing it?" Marty frowned in confusion.
"Yeah, suppressing it," she confirmed with a nod. "Ever since you told me you were going to propose to Andy."
His frown deepened slightly. "Seriously?"
"You're using that word a lot," Rory pointed out. "It's starting to get annoying."
"Seri...sorry," he apologized, catching himself before continuing. "I'm just...at a loss of what to say next, Rory."
"Right there with you," sighed the journalist.
"I mean, the me from four or five years ago would be completely thrilled to have this happening, because it's pretty safe to say that I had it pretty bad for you in Yale," Marty admitted with a rueful little smile. "And that's not to say I don't still have some of those feeling lingering about. We wouldn't be where we are now if I didn't, but-"
"But you're also still in the process of getting over your fiance," finished Rory while combing delicate fingers through her hair. She licked her lips then continued in earnest. "I don't expect you to say it back, Marty. I know you're not there yet."
"I'll try not to keep you waiting too long," he promised, completely sincere.
"I know you won't," she said with something between a sniffle and a laugh. "Thank you."
"No, thank you, Rory," her boyfriend whispered, his hands up to cradle her face. He gently brushed the unexpected tears away with his thumbs. "I don't know how I'd have gotten through all the crap I've been through the last couple of weeks if you weren't here."
Unable to think of anything to say to that sentiment, Rory reached up to pull his hands away from her face before sweeping in to kiss him. It didn't take long for things to escalate as the couple began pulling at each other's clothes.
"Upstairs," a gasping Rory commanded between kisses. "Take me upstairs."
Marty paused for a moment to meet her gaze. "Seriously?"
"Seriously," she nodded, deciding to go all in. Rory let out a shivering breath while rising from the couch, her hand outstretched towards him. The architect nodded back then slipped his hand into hers and allowed Rory to lead him upstairs.
It was sometime around midnight when Rory once again found herself staring up at the ceiling, though unlike the previous time she was in this position the reporter wasn't plagued by the doubts and fears that had ruined their first coupling. When Marty placed an arm around her waist in his sleep, she couldn't help but smile at him in the near darkness.
If this is a dream, I don't ever want to wake up, Rory thought, gently caressing her practically comatose boyfriend's face before allowing sleep to overtake her.