FanFiction.Net - unleash your imagination|
Author of 32 Stories |
Disclaimer: I don’t own Gilmore Girls; I just like to pretend I do, so I write stories and use the characters for my own entertainment.
Rating: PG-13, just to be safe
Time Period: Future Fic. No Spoilers.
A/N: I started writing this challenge( write a story based on the theme rainy days) as a way to rid myself of writes block. And I succeeded, but I soon became obsessed, writing and rewriting every part. Thanks to TWoP for coming up with a great challenge. And thanks to my beta(s) Colleen, Heather, and Jamie for your great advice and encouragement. And to my friend Brittany, cause she always wanted to get kissed in the rain...
When It Rains
They sit there pretending to be just friends, when all the time in the world couldn’t tear them apart…
Rory Gilmore has never been particularly fond of rain. In fact, she despises it. Even more so today since its presence is threatening her mental stability.
She needs to go out. She needs to be doing something. Anything other than staring out her window would do. The rain pelts harshly against the window panel, causing her to sigh heavily.
Before the rain had pronounced itself ruler for the day she had planned on going to Washington Square Park. She would have walked calmly through the city she had learned to call home, found a bench, and begun to read. It was a very rare occurrence that Rory Gilmore had a day off, one with no visits home or prearranged plans. It would have been nice; relaxing; peaceful. As if mocking her, the thunder roars proving once again that her day of relaxation had been ruined.
Maybe if she had some more coffee, she could settle down, and enjoy her book, indoors. She groans. Rory Gilmore hated rainy days. Removing herself from a cocoon of perfectly secured blankets she makes her way towards the kitchen. Pouring herself another cup of coffee, the fourth today, she heads towards her book shelves, debating what to read.
Her apartment wasn’t very big. But it was big enough; in a good location, close to work, close to friends. She had a living room, with a kitchenette area off to the side, a bathroom, one bedroom.
Returning to the couch, she drops her head backward, allowing her hair to fall loosely during the process. Closing her eyes, the brunette prays for peace.
And for a few moments, she’s able to block out the harsh downpour.
There was silence.
The phone rings.
She sighs.
Debating on whether or not to let the machine get it, Rory decides against it. She’s desperate for human contact.
“Speak and speak quickly.” She mumbles into the phone.
The voice chuckles. “Rory.”
She brightens upon hearing him speak her name. “Tristan.”
“The one and only.”
She snorts. “I highly doubt you’re the only Tristan on the face of this planet.”
“Do you know another Tristan?”
She falters. “Well...um...uh...”
“Speechless? I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Oh shut up!”
“Good come back.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in Aruba, or the Bahamas or something?”
“Tahiti.” He corrects. “I decided to turn him down.”
“Okay, so your father offers you an all expense paid two week vacation, for no reason whatsoever, and you just decide not to go.” She pauses. “Oh right, I forgot you’re going to make you own way in the world, and break away from your father.” She mimics.
“Exactly. If I went on that god-dam trip he’d only find a way to use it against me in the future.”
“You could have given it to me.”
“Yeah, little miss ‘I can’t take the day off, this article is due, I can’t leave early we’re going to print’.”
“Well I’m home today, aren’t I?”
“Yeah...you really know how to pick those days off.”
“I’m bored out of my mind.” She admits.
“Likewise.”
Silence engulfs them.
“I’m bored.” She repeats.
“You mentioned that.”
“Entertain me, rich boy.”
“I’m hopelessly in love with you.”
“Wha...what?”
“Just wanted something to shut you up.”
She stops for a moment before answering him. She needs time to recover. It was a joke; she knew it even as he said it. But somehow, the words just seemed to carry a lot of weight.
“Mean.”
“Thanks.”
“Glad to be of service.”
“A simple ‘you’re welcome’ would have been sufficient.”
“Tristan DuGrey, when have I ever settled for sufficient?”
“This is true.”
“Okay, you can go away now, you’re no longer amusing.”
“I didn’t know that was why you were talking to me.”
“Well you are now informed of your reason for living.”
“That I am.”
They hold the phones to their ears, though neither speaks.
“You want to come over?” She asks suddenly.
‘What?”
“I’m bored. You’re bored. We can be bored together.”
He pauses, then with a shrug he begins. “Makes sense. I’ll be over in ten.”
“Oh, and bring food.” She adds as an afterthought.
He laughs, before hanging up.
Quickly, Tristan heads to his closet, throwing on jeans and an old Abercrombie sweatshirt. We’re just going to have lunch. He reminds himself.He never knew what it was about her, but he always did, and probably always will have a thing for Rory Gilmore. He doesn’t know what exactly that thing is, but he knows it’s there. She is beautiful, intelligent, sweet, fun to be with, and original. He smiles, remembering all of her quirks. She’s definitely original. He’d never find another one like her.
One thing he does know is that he and Rory are not meant to date. They never have been, and they never will be. Simple as that. He dates other girls, and she dates other guys. They were content as friends. But every once in a while they’d have a moment, reminding them of what might have been.
Leaving the thoughts for another time, he grabs his keys, and heads out of his apartment, trying to decide what type of food to bring.
She paces her apartment, picking up a stray shoe here, an out of place book there. Glancing at a mirror, she notices her appearance. Her coffee colored hair is pulled up into a messy bun. She’s wearing a camisole and pajama pantss. She contemplates changing, but decides against it.
She shrugs. It’s just Tristan. He’s seen her in her pajamas before. This is no different. Why does it feel different?
It’s been happening a lot lately, Rory realizes. She questions how she looks, second guesses her outfit. She’s been getting butterflies in her stomach whenever they’re in close proximity. And one time, very recently, he brought a date when a bunch of their friends went out together. She felt a pang of jealously every time the girl would touch him, kiss him, or dance with him.
She doesn’t have a chance to continue these thoughts because the doorbell rings, signaling his arrival. She sighs heavily, making her way towards the door.
Rory opens it halfway. “You got the goods?” She asks in a deep voice.
He holds up a paper bag. “Indian food for five.” He says.
She pouts, opening the door to allow him access. “Only five?”
“I’m not made of money, you know.”
“Really? I’m pretty sure your Porsche implies otherwise.”
“Leave her out of this!”
“It’s impractical to have a car in Manhattan, Tristan.”
“You’re just jealous.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Glad to hear it, so where should I put this?”
“Uh...” She glances around the apartment. “Coffee table. I’ll get napkins, you open everything up. Don’t expect plates; nothing fancy here.”
“Of course not.”
They eat around the coffee table, talking about work, movies, books, anything and everything. They’re friends; they could be more. But neither is willing to risk it. And so they remain content in their friendly banter, for the moment at least.
“I hate rainy days.” She tells him. “They’re so...blah.”
“Really, I always thought you thought it was magical or something.”
She laughs. “It’s snow, and that’s actually my mother.”
“Oh...right, the elder Lorelei.”
“Yep.”
“So why snow?”
“Hmm?” She mumbles, swallowing a mouthful of rice.
“Why is snow so magical?”
“Everything important happened to her when it snowed. She got her first kiss in the snow, she met my dad during the snow, and she married Luke in the snow.” She shrugs. “It’s like its snowing just for her.”
“And rain?”
“When it rains...” She begins. “When it rains... I’m bored out of my mind.”
“Well...we’re going to have to do something about that, aren’t we?”
“Huh?” She looks up at him, confusion clouding her features.
He rises from his seat at the coffee table and holds out his hand to hers.
“What am I supposed to do with that?”
He smirks. “You know I could totally turn that into a great comment.”
“Don’t.” She demands.
“Okay, now come on. Get up.”
She does as he asks, but not without question. “Why?”
“I’m going to make you love the rain.”
“And how, pray tell, do you plan on doing that?”
He scrunches up his face, as if questioning it himself. “I don’t know. I’ll figure it out sooner or later.”
“Oh that’s nice. What? Do you just expect me to follow you blindly?”
“Yep.”
She shrugs. “It’s better than sitting here. Let me just put my shoes on.”
He looks at her, really looks at her and suddenly notices what she is wearing; pajama pants, and one of those really tight fitting shirts. Their name starts with a ‘c’ but he can’t remember what they are called. He does know that she looks beautiful in it, and incredibly sexy, as well, too sexy for her to go out in. When did I become so protective of her? He wonders.
“Um...you’re um...you’re going out in... that?” He stares at her, open mouthed.
“Yeah, why?”
“Don’t you think it’s a little...revealing?”
Rory inwardly grins at how uncomfortable he is. She’s going to have some fun, she decides. “Why? Don’t you like it?” She strikes a pose.
The blonde looks at her helplessly, and she bursts into a fit of giggles. “If you’re that worried about me than I’ll go change.”
“Yeah...um...that might be better.”
Truthfully, she wants him to tell her that he loves the way she looks. She wants him to say that she’s naturally beautiful. She wants him to explain that they should just stay inside, just the two of them, because he doesn’t want to share her with anyone else. But she won’t let him, nor herself, know that.
“Okay. I’ll be out in five...no... ten minutes.”
“Fifteen?” He calls.
“Oh yeah.”
The brunette returns twenty minutes later clad in jeans, a white tank top, and sneakers, her hair falling loosely over her shoulders.
“Better?” She teases.
He wants to tell her the truth that she looks even more appealing now. But he doesn’t. Instead, he smiles, and hands her a sweatshirt. “Let’s go.”
She sighs dramatically. “This better be good, DuGrey.”
They reach the foyer of her apartment building, and head for the door. She stops, abruptly.
“What’s the problem?”
“It’s raining.”
“How observant.”
“But we can’t go out there.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’ll get wet!” She exclaims, throwing her hands up to emphasize the point.
“Well if we don’t go outside, how do you suppose I entertain you?”
“I’ll go get an umbrella.”
He snickers.
“What?”
“An umbrella?”
“Yes...an umbrella!”
“What are you, seventy?”
“I resent that!”
“You should.”
“What’s wrong with an umbrella? It’s a very useful tool.”
“Rory, we’re twenty-four years old. We don’t use umbrellas. We run.”
“But we’ll get wet.”
“That’s already been established.”
“I don’t want to get wet.”
“Come on, Mary. Live a little.”
“I’m living just fine, thank y—oh!”
She yelps as he pushes her out the door, and onto the sidewalk. She’s soaked in a matter of seconds. He only laughs.
She laughs too, pulling him outside as well.
“Okay, well now that we’re soaked, where do you plan on taking me?”
He looks at her, baffled. “Um...I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? You drag me out here in the rain, for no reason whatsoever.”
“I have a reason. I just haven’t thought of it.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
He grabs her hand. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”
She nods her head in agreement. “Why not? I’m already soaked.”
“My sentiments exactly.”
They walk along the streets, talking and laughter. Neither seems to notice the rain anymore. That’s no longer a concern.
They end up at Washington Square Park, as per Rory’s original plan.
“You know, I’d planned on coming here today.” She tells him.
“What stopped you?”
“The rain.”
He returns her smile. “A minor technicality.”
“That’s all, huh?”
“That’s all.”
She shivers. “You cold?”
“No...I’m fine.”
“Really?”
“Mhmm...”
“I don’t think so.”
Quickly, he pulls off his sweatshirt, leaving him in nothing but jeans and a grey tee shirt. “Here.” He offers her the shirt. “Put this on. It’s drier than yours; thicker too.”
“But what about you?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
She giggles, as she pulls it on. “Big, tough, macho man, huh?”
“Exactly.”
“How do I look?” She asks.
He walks towards her and places the hood over her head. He ties it in a bow. She holds her breath, savoring his touch, wanting more, more than ever before.
“Beautiful.” He whispers.
And for a moment she thinks he’ll kiss her. He thinks he’ll kiss her. But, he decides against it. It’s not worth the risk.
“Come on. We should get you home.”
He starts walking, expecting her to follow. But she doesn’t. Instead, she stands there, watching him walk away, her heart racing, her mind buzzing.
“Tristan!” She hears herself call.
He turns, staring at her. Neither speaks.
She runs towards him; she jumps into his arms. Tristan grabs her, and acting on instinct he twirls her in his arms. Simultaneously, they move in for the kiss.
Fireworks erupt inside her. They pull away; he’s grinning.
“Told you I’d make you love the rain.”
Rory swats his arm playfully, and then they’re kissing again. As she wraps herself more securely in his arms, she thinks, maybe, just maybe, she’ll reconsider her opinion on rainy days.
:
:
:
:
